GIFT   OF 
MICHAEL  REESE 


1 


Five  American  Politicians 

A  Study  in  the  Evolution  of 
American  Politics 


I.  Aaron  Burr,  Father  of  the  Political  Machine 
II.  DeWitt  Clinton,  Father  of  the  Spoils  System 
III.  Martin  Van  Buren,  Nationalizer  of  the  Machine 

IV.  Henry  Clay,  Master  and  Victim  of  Compromise 
and  Coalition 

V,  Stephen  A.  Douglas,  Defender  of  State's  Rights 
and  of  Nationalism 


By 

Samuel  P.  Orth 

*. 


Cleveland 

The  Burrows  Brothers  Company 
1906 


*'£0rU'ei*nm*ent$;lito!'cloic'fcs*,go  from  the  motion  met 
give  them ;  and  as  Governments  are  made  am 
moved  by  men,  so  by  them  they  are  ruined  too 
Wherefore  Governments  rather  depend  upon  met 
than  men  upon  Governments.  Let  men  be  good,  am 
the  Government  cannot  be  bad.  If  it  be  ill,  they  wtl 
cure  it.  But  if  men  be  bad,  they  will  endeavo, 
to  warp  and  spoil  it  to  their  turn" 

WM.  PENN 
Preface  to  his  Constitution 
of  Pennsylvania. 


Copyright,  1906. 


TO 

FRANCIS  H.  HASEROT 

Successful  Merchant 
Useful  Citizen 
Loyal  Friend 
This  volume  is  respectfully  inscribed 


FOREWORD. 

These  biographical  sketches  were  prepared 
by  the  author,  not  as  a  formal  treatise  upon 
political  science,  nor  a  new  fragment  of  po 
litical  theory  wrested  from  the  realms  of 
research,  nor  yet  as  a  novel  contribution  to 
political  history;  but  to  tell  simply  and  in 
formally  the  life-stories  of  five  of  our  great 
American  politicians. 

For  into  the  life-story  of  a  leader  is  woven 
the  history  of  his  day.  And  thus  in  the  de 
veloping  personalities  of  our  political  leaders, 
in  their  intense  ambitions,  in  their  statecraft, 
their  designing,  their  talents,  and  their  fol 
lies,  can  be  discovered  the  political  develop 
ment  of  our  people. 

In  the  hope  that  they  may  contribute  to  a 
clearer  understanding  of  the  growth  of  Amer 
ican  politics,  these  biographical  fragments 
are  sent  forth. 

While  the  author  has  searched  the  best 
libraries  of  the  country  for  his  material,  he 
begs  to  acknowledge  his  especial  dependence 
upon  the  following  works :  Parton's  "  Aaron 
Burr,"  Shepherd's  "Martin  Van  Buren," 
Schurz's  "Henry  Clay,"  Nicolay  &  Hay's 
"Abraham  Lincoln, "  and  Burgess's  'The 
Middle  Period."  S.  P.  O. 

Cleveland,  October  2,  1905. 


AARON  BURR 

FATHER  OF  THE  POLITICAL  MACHINE 


AARON  BURR 

FATHER  OF  THE  POLITICAL  MACHINE 


AFTER  the  Revolution,  chaos.  Nothing 
could  exceed  the  confusion  and  petty 
antagonisms  of  the  thirteen  states 
at  the  close  of  the  Revolutionary  War. 
The  bond  that  had  united  their  sympathies 
and  joined  their  powers  was  loosened  by  the 
tidings  of  peace,  and  the  victorious  regi 
ments  marched  home  to  discover  that  the 
feeling  of  Nationalism  had  been  largely  con 
fined  to  the  army,  and  that  narrow,  prov 
incial  sentiments  prevailed  in  the  local  dis 
tricts. 

After  the  war  of  destruction  must  follow 
the  era  of  construction.  That  remarkable 
group  of  men  who  had  guided  the  affairs  of 
the  country  in  war  now  set  themselves  nobly 
to  the  great  task  of  building  a  nation  from 
the  fragments  that  had  survived  the  struggle. 

It  is  necessary  at  the  outset  of  this  study 
of  American  politics  to  remombei.:  t£atfc  the 
problem  of  our  fathers  wa£  not  only  to  pro 
vide  the  machinery  of  govern^Tient^—a  *na^ 
tional  union  with  all  of  its  subordinate  aha 
coordinate  parts, —  but  they  must  also  organ 
ize  and  direct  the  motor  force  which  would 
set  this  mechanism  in  motion,  and  ever  ac- 


12      Five  American  Politicians 

celerate  or  retard  its  impetus  according  to 
the  needs  of  society. 

Now  for  the  creation  of  the  mechanism, 
the  model  was  at  hand.  It  was  an  Anglo- 
Saxon  model,  evolved  by  fierce  struggles 
between  kings  and  barons,  peoples  and  lords, 
armies  and  peasants,  until  the  government 
of  England  stood  forth,  an  example  of  con 
stitutional  centralization  and  local  auton 
omy.  It  was  the  perversion,  and  not  the 
demolishing  of  this  ideal  by  a  non-English 
monarch,  that  had  led  to  the  War  of  Inde 
pendence.  The  experiences  of  the  colonies 
and  the  vague  and  ultra-altruistic  philoso 
phy  of  the  French  school  then  in  vogue, 
somewhat  modified  the  pattern  of  English 
government  written  into  our  constitution. 
But  on  the  whole,  that  is  a  purely  Anglo- 
Saxon  document. 

The  only  portions  of  that  constitution 
which  have  not  worked  well  are  those  that 
were  invented  by  the  framers.  The  method, 
e.  g.,  of  electing  a  president,  had  to  be 
changed, — and  indeed  is  even  now  in  need 
of  complete  revision.  So  I  say,  the  pattern 
for  the  mechanism,  the  skeleton  and  muscle 
part  of  the  body  politic  was  at  hand,  and 
wel)  known  to1  the  lawyers  and  statesmen 
who  were  members  of  the  notable  conven 
tion  that  wrcte  the  constitution. 

The  vivifying  power  that  must  give  life 
to  the  body,  give  motion  to  the  machine, 
was  provided  by  nature,  by  human  nature. 


Aaron  Burr  13 


For  all  government  is  merely  man's  device 
for  tempering  and  harmonizing  the  instincts 
and  ideals  of  society.  Government  is  the 
guiding  of  human  nature  into  the  paths  of 
progress  and  plenty.  So  that,  given  a  form 
of  government,  the  inherent  tendencies  of 
human  nature  will  give  it  a  certain  definite 
motion.  In  a  democracy,  this  movement 
will  be  freer  and  easier  than  in  a  monarchy, 
and  also  more  frequent  in  its  changes. 

Politically  all  human  nature  is  divided 
into  two  camps,  progressive  and  stationary. 
By  nature,  all  men  are  either  radical  or  con 
servative.  Politics  is  a  matter  of  tempera 
ment,  of  liver  and  spleen,  of  secretion  and 
assimilation.  So  you  will  always  find  two 
great  parties  in  every  country,  and  in  every 
democracy  or  republic  these  two  great  par 
ties  will  be  the  motor  power  of  the  wheels 
of  government. 

The  problem  of  American  politics  in  the 
nursery  days  of  the  Republic,  was  to  harness 
and  bridle  those  two  over-mastering  ten 
dencies  of  human  nature.  Presidents,  sena 
tors,  courts,  ballots,  juries,  cabinets,  states, 
counties,  cities,  all  were  merely  like  so  many 
wheels,  pulleys,  belts,  and  shafts  in  the  great 
machine  of  Government.  The  mystic  force 
that  bade  these  parts  move  in  unison  and 
sway  in  sympathy  with  the  popular  will  was 
the  expressed  sentiment  of  the  majority. 
To  control  and  organize  that  majority  is  the 
master-task  of  statesmen  and  politicians, 


14      Five  American  Politicians 

of  statesmen,  for  the  sake  of  the  nation,  of 
politicians,  for  the  sake  of  ulterior  private 
motives. 

While  thus  the  pattern  of  our  government 
was  at  hand,  ready  shaped,  the  application 
of  political  sentiment  and  conviction  to 
the  details  of  government  was  a  novel 
problem  to  Americans  and  absolutely  vital 
to  our  national  existence.  The  development 
of  American  politics,  with  all  of  its  complex 
details,  has  been  an  evolution  from  the 
simpler  days  of  the  post-revolutionary  per 
iod.  Every  characteristic  of  present  day 
politics  can  be  traced  to  a  single  beginning 
as  the  biologist  can  trace  the  origin  of  all 
life  to  a  single-celled  monad. 

These  devices  that  characterize  our  prac 
tical  politics  were  designed  by  men  of  inge 
nuity  to  utilize  the  natural  prejudices  and 
passions  of  men.  To  these  manipulators, 
these  designers,  these  leaders,  we  trace  the 
parentage  of  every  political  device,  and  in 
the  circumstances  that  surrounded  their  lives 
we  find  the  causes  that  commanded  the  crea 
tion  of  the  device.  In  the  biographies  of 
great  politicians  and  statesmen,  then,  in  the 
influences  that  shaped  their  plans,  must  we 
seek  the  story  of  the  development  of  Ameri 
can  politics. 

Personality  and  principle  are  the  dual 
nuclei  about  which  have  crystalized  our 
great  parties.  The  principles  are  embodied 
in  the  personalities  of  the  leaders.  Their 


Aaron  Burr  15 

life-story  is  the  story  of  party  politics  in 
America. 

New  York  has  been  the  most  fertile  garden 
spot  of  American  politics.  There  first  flour 
ished  the  machine,  the  lobby,  the  spoils 
system,  and  there  was  nurtured  the  party 
boss,  whose  patriotism  expanded  or  con 
tracted  with  his  purse. 

In  this  series  of  studies  of  early  American 
party  politics  we  will  have  to  search  for 
origins  mainly  among  the  winding  laby 
rinths  of  factions  as  they  existed  in  New 
York  after  the  Revolution.  At  this  time, 
all  men  were  either  Federalists  or  Anti- 
Federalists.  The  new  constitution  was  con 
sidered  by  all  of  its  makers  as  a  temporary 
makeshift,  at  most  as  an  experiment.  None 
of  them  knew  how  well  they  had  builded. 
The  Federalists  espoused  its  cause  with  the 
conciliatory  feeling  that  it  ought  to  have  a 
fair  trial.  The  Anti-Federalists,  on  the 
other  hand,  viewed  with  alarm  the  central 
ized  national  government.  It  was  this 
alarm  that  inspired  the  savage  attacks  of 
George  Clinton  and  Jefferson;  and  it  was 
this  spirit  of  conciliation  and  fair-mindedness 
that  inspired  the  defense  of  the  new  consti 
tution.  In  George  Washington  this  concili 
atory  spirit  found  an  embodiment,  and  in 
Alexander  Hamilton  a  champion.  There  is 
a  prevalent  feeling  that  Washington  had  no 
enemies.  This  is  wholly  false.  No  good 
and  great  man  ever  lived  who  had  not  ene- 


1 6      Five  American  Politicians 

mies.  Nothing  in  the  political  controver 
sies  of  to-day  equals  the  ardor  and  rancor 
of  the  partisans  of  that  primordial  time  of 
American  politics.  Out  of  the  travail  of 
partisanship,  of  provincialism,  of  personal 
hatred;  of  debates,  estrangements  and  duels; 
of  bickering,  intriguing  and  betraying,  was 
born  the  party  machinery  of  to-day. 

It  was  still  the  day  of  the  gentleman. 
The  new  nation  was  a  Cis-Atlantic  England 
in  costume  and  custom,  economic  organiza 
tions  and  political  thought.  An  England 
tinged  with  the  superficialities  of  the  cur 
rent  French  philosophy  of  Montaigne  and 
Rousseau  and  Voltaire,  as  well  as  tainted 
with  the  moralities  of  Chesterfield  and  God 
win.  Powdered  wigs,  parti-colored  waist 
coats,  silk  hose,  and  silver  shoe  buckles  were 
still  insignia  of  rank.  The  veneer  of  courtly 
manners  was  still  indicative  of  high  birth. 
And  the  clog,  the  pantaloon,  the  close- 
cropped  hair,  was  the  badge  of  labor  and  mean 
birth.  Only  freeholders  were  allowed  to 
vote  in  New  York.  Universal  suffrage  was 
contemplated  with  a  fear  that  clung  through 
fifty  years  of  agitation. 

The  Treaty  of  Paris  was  signed  in  1782. 
The  constitution  was  written  in  1787,  and  it 
required  two  long  years  of  hard  labor  and 
illuminating  discussion  to  persuade  nine 
states  to  adopt  it.  Washington  inaugurated 
the  new  government  in  1789.  This  decade 
between  the  cessations  of  war  and  the  be- 


Aaron  Burr  17 


ginning  of  our  national  government  was 
altogether  the  most  distressing  and  disheart 
ening  period  of  our  history.  The  struggle 
was  not  simply  between  Federalist  and  Anti- 
Federalist.  These  were  but  names  that 
shielded  multiform  foes. 

There  was  first  the  anti-British  feeling  of* 
the  violent  Whigs,  who  had  disfranchised  the 
British  sympathizers.  These  disfranchised 
citizens  were  nearly  all  men  of  wealth,  and 
therefore  latterly  drew  toward  them  the 
well  wishes  and  sympathies  of  the  merchant 
and  land-owning  Americans,  who  were  quite 
all  Federalists. 

There  was  secondly  the  provincial  or< 
state  feeling.  This  was  positively  ridicu 
lous.  So  petty  and  unneighborly  was  this 
colonial  sentiment  that  Governor  Clinton  of 
New  York  contemplated  an  impost  duty  to 
be  levied  on  articles  brought  over  the  Hud 
son  from  Jersey  and  over  the  state  line  from 
Connecticut.  Naturally  this  threatened  re 
taliation,  the  forerunner  of  civil  war. 

Thirdly,  there  was  a  great  family  feeling.  > 
How  novel  this  sounds  to  our  ears.  Three 
families  ruled  New  York;  three  royal  fami 
lies,  who  guarded  their  patronage  and  power 
with  a  jealousy  that  rivaled  the  manorial 
feelings  of  the  feudal  dynasties  of  the  middle 
ages.  The  Livingstones  had  wealth.  The 
Clintons  had  offices  and  votes.  The  Schuy- 
lers  had  wealth,  prestige,  and  Hamilton,  who 
had  married  the  fair  daughter  of  General 


1 8      Five  American  Politicians 

Schuyler.  Neither  one  of  these  families 
could  rule  New  York  alone.  Any  two  of 
them  united  could  control  the  electorate. 

Finally  there  was  a  feeling  of  democracy 
against  aristocracy.  Business  and  office 
were  in  the  hands  of  the  gentility,  who 
treated  all  others  with  disdain  and  often 
contempt.  It  was  a  feeling  that  was  born 
of  blood,  and  was  greatly  augmented  by  the 
circumstances  that  placed  the  Federalists 
into  power.  In  1787  the  Federalists  had 
bargained  with  the  disfranchised  loyalists 
that  they  would  return  to  them  civil  abili 
ties  in  return  for  their  support  in  the  adop 
tion  of  the  constitution.  The  deal  suc 
ceeded,  and  in  1788  the  Democratic  party, 
Anti-Federalists,  were  thrown  out  of  power 
by  a  vote  of  7  to  1.  The  Commons  who  had 
tasted  the  sweets  of  victory,  now  chafed  at 
the  bitter  dregs  of  defeat. 

These  antipodal  sentiments  were  given 
substantial  form  in  two  organizations.  The 
Sons  of  Liberty  were  bands  of  patriots  who 
had  pledged  themselves  to  the  country's 
glory,  over  many  a  sparkling  glass.  They 
gathered  within  their  clubs  all  the  anti-Eng 
lish  sentiment.  They  were  the  Whigs.  They 
attempted  to  do  away  with  all  things  that 
flavored  of  the  English,  even  wishing  to 
discard  the  names  of  the  months,  as  the 
French  Revolutionists  did  a  few  decades  later. 

The  Society  of  the  Cincinnati  was  essen 
tially  a  federal  organization.  It  comprised 


Aaron  Burr  19 

the  officers  of  Washington's  army.  And 
many  wild  rumors  were  set  afloat  by  the 
Sons  of  Liberty  as  to  the  sinister  notions  of 
the  members  of  this  order.  They  were  sup 
posed  to  have  designs  on  the  government, 
and  were  to  establish  hereditary  ranks.  But 
these  two  organizations  did  not  attain  any 
primary  political  significance.  <{*  **•*_ 

The  constitution  was  adopted  through  the 
genius  and  brilliancy  of  Hamilton.  His 
name  was  on  every  tongue,  his  picture  was 
in  every  federal  household.  A  magnificent 
float  bearing  his  name  was  borne  through 
the  streets  of  New  York  in  celebration  of 
the  great  event  of  the  adoption  of  the  con 
stitution.  His  party  was  victorious  at  the 
polls,  national  and  state,  and  he  sat  at  the 
council  board  of  the  first  president,  honored 
and  obeyed. 

This  great  victory  demolished  the  organi 
zation  of  the  Sons  of  Liberty.  But  the 
spirit  of  discontent  lurked  in  the  hearts  of 
its  disorganized  members.  Federalism  to 
them  was  aristocracy,  and  aristocracy 
reigned.  The  time  was  at  hand  for  organiz 
ing  this  discontent  into  a  weapon  for  wrest 
ing  the  state  from  the  hated  champions  of 
centralization  and  privileged  interests.  It 
was  the  psychological  moment.  There  was 
needed  only  a  leader,  a  leader  whose  genius 
would  rival  Hamilton's,  whose  personality 
would  inspire  confidence,  and  whose  courage 
would  dispel  fear.  Such  a  one  was  at  hand. 


2O      Five  American  Politicians 

Nature  and  events  had  conspired  to  make 
Aaron  Burr  the  rival  of  Hamilton.  He  was; 
born  of  a  parentage  that  has  potently  influ 
enced  the  course  of  scholarship  in  America. 
.His  father,  the  Rev.  Aaron  Burr,  was  the 
\  distinguished  president  of  Princeton  college, 
and  the  scion  of  a  Puritan  family  that  had 
for  three  generations  given  to  the  colonies 
eminent  clergymen,  lawyers,  and  merchants. 
His  mother,  Esther  Edwards,  was  the  gifted 
daughter  of  the  most  noted  scholar  of  that 
period,  Jonathan  Edwards.  The  brilliant 
mental  talents  of  these  distinguished  men 
were  transmitted  to  Aaron.  Unfortunately, 
their  moral  sensitiveness  and  lofty  idealism 
found  no  lodgment  in  his  soul. 

At  the  age  of  eleven  the  precocious  boy 
was  ready  to  enter  Princeton.  The  faculty 
refused  him  admission.  He  was  too  young. 
Two  years  later  he  entered  the  sophomore 
class,  and  graduated  at  the  age  of  sixteen. 
Naturally  his  family  desired  him  to  enter 
the  ministry.  His  parents  had  died  before 
he  entered  college,  and  the  uncle  with  whom 
he  found  a  home  was  unable  to  manage 
the  self-willed  and  brilliant  youth.  But  he 
consented  to  investigate  the  theological 
field  before  he  definitely  refused  to  devote 
himself  to  the  pursuit  of  his  fathers,  and  for 
that  purpose  entered  a  private  school  of 
theology  conducted  by  Dr.  Bellamy.  He 
soon  entangled  that  worthy  divine  in  the 
meshes  of  the  arguments  of  French  skepti- 


Aaron  Burr  21 

cism,  then  so  popular  among  university 
students,  and  left  the  school  disappointed 
with  the  theology  of  his  famous  grand 
parent  and  disgusted  with  the  orthodox 
formulae  of  his  tutor. 

He  chose  the  law.  But  before  he  could 
open  his  books  the  guns  of  Lexington  had 
called  the  nation  to  arms,  and  Aaron  Burr, 
nineteen  years  old,  enlisted  in  the  continen 
tal  army.  Never  was  there  a  better  soldier. 
Had  Burr  been  born  in  Europe,  history 
might  record  two  Napoleons.  Sparse  in 
physique,  instinct  with  motion,  Spartan  in 
diet  and  drink,  satisfied  with  few  hours' 
sleep,  and  able  to  sleep  under  any  circum 
stances,  he  could  endure  almost  every  physi 
cal  hardship.  Alert  of  mind,  he  soon  mas 
tered  all  the  books  on  military  science;  in 
domitable  of  will,  his  discipline  was  the 
most  severe  in  all  the  army;  kind  in  dispo 
sition,  he  was  revered  by  his  soldiers.  And 
Aaron  Burr  never  knew  fear.  His  nerves 
could  not  twitch.  He  was  confronted  by 
more  sudden  dangers,  and  by  a  greater 
variety  of  imminent  catastrophies  than  any 
other  man  known  to  American  history,  but 
never  did  he  lose  his  absolute  self-possession. 
He  quelled  with  his  eye  and  the  calmness 
of  his  voice.  Thus  he  faced  mutinied  regi 
ments,  ambushed  enemies,  outraged  antag 
onists,  duelling  combatants,  defrauded  credi 
tors,  a  slandering  public,  and  an  enraged 
nation.  In- after  years,  his  record  as  a  Rev- 


22      Five  American  Politicians 

olutionary  soldier  broke  through  the  clouds 
that  covered  his  skies  like  a  gleam  of  wel 
come  sunlight  and  won  for  him  even  the 
approbation  of  a  congress,  whose  relentless 
animosity  was  akin  to  bigotry. 

He  served  until,  in  1780,  he  was  compelled 
by  broken  health,  brought  on  by  his  over-zeal 
ous  vigilance  in  guarding  the  Westchester 
lines,  to  ask  for  a  parole.  Washington  reluc- 

/tantly  granted  leave  to  his  best  disciplinarian. 
Between  the  commander-in-chief  and  the 
young  colonel  (he  had  attained  the  rank 
when  only  21)  there  was  never  any  mutual 
love.  Neither  Burr  nor  Hamilton  thought 
highly  of  Washington's  ability  as  a  soldier. 
Burr  could  not  conceal  his  opinions,  but 
Hamilton's  diplomacy  cloaked  his  views, 
and  thus  evaded  the  commander's  displeas 
ure,  which  was  several  times  shown  against 
Burr.  He  never  was  promoted  to  a  general 
ship,  and  always  felt  grudgingly  against 
Washington  for  the  partiality  displayed 
toward  Hamilton. 

For  eighteen  months  Burr  was  an  invalid. 
As  soon  as  he  had  gained  sufficient  strength 
he  attacked  the  law.  He  did  not  read  law, 
he  did  not  study  law,  he  plunged  into  the  li 
brary  of  Judge  Patterson  at  Haverstraw, 
and  in  six  months  mastered  the  law.  The 
rules  prescribed  for  average  mortals  are  not 
supposed  to  apply  to  genius,  and  he  started 
/for  Albany  to  seek  admission  to  the  bar, 

/despite  the  law  that  applicants  must  have 


Aaron  Burr  23 

spent  three  years  at  study.  He  found  no 
lawyer  to  espouse  his  cause,  so  he  pleaded  for 
himself  before  the  Supreme  Court,  arguing 
that  had  he  not  devoted  himself  to  his  coun 
try  in  her  need,  he  would  long  since  have 
been  admitted.  The  judges  decided  to  dis 
pense  with  the  rule,  if  the  applicant  could 
pass  the  examination.  The  test  was  made 
as  difficult  and  intricate  as  the  court  could  de 
vise,  but  Burr  passed  with  great  honor,  and 
at  the  age  of  twenty-six  was  licensed  attor 
ney  and  admitted  as  counsellor.  He  began 
to  practice  in  Albany,  and  from  the  first  his 
success  was  phenomenal.  The  old  Tory 
lawyers  had  all  been  disbarred  by  act  of  the 
legislature,  and  brilliant  Whig  lawyers  were  ^ 
much  sought. 

Within  three  months  from  the  time  of  his 
admission  he  was  married  to  Theodosia  Pre- 
vost,  the  widow  of  an  English  general,  whom 
Burr  had  met  some  years  before,  and  wooed 
with  winning  constancy.  She  was  a  woman 
noted  more  for  her  good  sense  than  her 
beauty,  and  was  charming  in  intellect  rather 
than  bewitching  in  manner.  The  home  thus 
founded  was  one  of  singular  beauty  and 
happiness.  The  two  sons  of  Mrs.  Prevost 
were  at  once  taken  under  the  guiding  care 
of  Burr,  who  was  endowed  with  all  the 
natural  talents  of  a  great  teacher.  And 
to  his  Theodosia,  the  only  child  of  this  fortu 
nate  union,  he  was  devoted  with  a  paternal 
attachment,  so  sweet  and  so  ennobling  that 


24      Five  American  Politicians 

the  annals  of  poesy  and  tradition  must  be 
searched  to  find  a  parallel.  In  her,  he 
wished  to  perfect  his  ideal  woman.  He  di 
rected  every  detail  of  her  education,  and  the 
voluminous  correspondence  that  passed  be 
tween  them  reveals  how  nearly  he  had  suc 
ceeded  in  realizing  his  purpose. 

Soon  after  his  marriage  he  removed  to 
New  York,  where  for  eight  years — until 
1791 — he  devoted  himself  assiduously  to  his 
profession.  He  paid  little  attention  to  poli 
tics.  He  had  been  elected  twice  to  the  state 
legislature,  but  attended  the  sessions  only 
when  important  measures  were  discussed, 
and  had  been  appointed  attorney  general 
in  1789,  but  his  duties  were  all  in  line  with 
his  profession.  He  shared  with  the  more 
eloquent  and  profound  Hamilton  the  leader 
ship  of  the  New  York  bar.  [  He  was  a  shrewd 
trial  lawyer.  He  knew  the  arts  of  marshal 
ling  men  and  facts.  He  was  adroit,  awake, 
sharp,  without  sentiment,  a  martinet.  Al 
ways  tripping,  but  never  tripped.  Never 
gave  quarter  and  never  asked.  He  was  not 
given  to  words.  His  address  was  plain  and 
direct,  but  always  convincing.  I  cannot 
find  that  he  ever  made  a  speech  over  sixty 
minutes  in  length.  He  would  follow  one  of 
Hamilton's  eloquent  and  masterly  argu 
ments  with  a  few  remarks,  but  those  so 
sharpened  and  so  well  directed,  that  the  great 
plea,  which  swayed  judge  and  jury,  would 
fall  disjointed,  a  mangled  mass  at  his  feet. 


•"t 

Aaron  Burr  25 

And  in  later  years,  when  he  stood  before  the 
bar  accused  of  treason  against  his  country, 
he  met  the  gravest  crisis  of  that  trial  with 
a  speech  that  occupied  ten  minutes  of  time 
in  the  delivery.  —  ~— - 

But  we  are  to  turn  to  the  political  career 
of  this  remarkable  man.  _    _  IIM  __jjm,  ,„, 

Before  detailing  his  life  as  a  politician,  let 
us  draw  a  picture  of  the  man  Burr  as  he  was 
known  to  his  contemporaries.  Burr  was 
small  of  stature,  being  scarcely  five  Feet  six 
inchesTm  height,  and  slight  of  frame.  His 
bearing  was  erect,  the  poise  of  his  head  was 
classic.  His  mouth  was  very  large,  nose  ! 
prominent,  ears  diminutive,  closely  cling-  ' 
ing  to  his  head,  and  his  forehead,  broad  at 
the  base,  contracted  rapidly  to  a  point. 
This  gave  his  head  a  most  peculiar  contour. 
His  eyes  were  living  coals.  No  human  be 
ing  into  whose  face  they  had  peered  could 
ever  forget  their  all-searching  power.  In 
demeanor  quiet,  in  speech  calm,  in  habits 
abstemious  and  regular,  never  idle  a  minute, 
this  child  of  genius  was  at  once  beau  an 
student,  wit  and  philosopher,  benevolent 
and  heartless.  He  was  totally  indifferent 
to  public  opinion.  Crafty  was  he  beyond 
all  thought,  and  reckless  unto  death.  He 
was  guided  by  impulse  rather  than  logic, 

was  fascinating  rather  than  overpowering, 

and  rapid  rather  than  sure.  And  above  all 
was  he  fond  of  intrigue.  Mystery  seemed 
the  motif  of  his  politics,  and  he  never  put 


26      Five  American  Politicians 

in  writing  the  slightest  fragment  of  a  plot, 
without  leaving  ample  loopholes  through 
which  he  might  escape  if  discovered. 

An  overmastering  ambition  seized  this 
man  and  drew  him  headlong  into  politics. 
~".s  rise  seems  miraculous.  In  four  years 
\  he  lifted  himself  from  private  life  through 
the  legislature  to  the  United  States  senate, 
and  into  active  rivalry  with  Adams,  Jeffer 
son,  and  Clinton  for  the  succession  to  Wash 
ington.  And  this  when  but  thirty-six  years 
age,  without  affiliating  himself  with  any 
of  the  reigning  families,  nor  committing 
himself  fully  and  irrevocably  to  either  of 
the  two  great  parties,  and  without  originat 
ing  or  espousing  any  great  cause  or  measure 
that  would  lend  character  to  his  campaign 
for  power  and  glory \XThis  marvelous  prog 
ress  was  not  due  al(5ne  to  the  prestige  of  his 
New  England  ancestry,  as  John  Adams 
said;  nor  to  mere  wire-pulling,  as  Hamil 
ton  wrote;  nor  to  his  military  reputation, 
as  Jefferson  surmised;  nor  to  luck,  as  the 
populace  cried.  It  was  primarily  due  to  the 
fact  that  Aaron  Burr  was  the  first  American 
politician  who  saw  the  value  of  compact 
political  organization. 

We  must  now  go  back  to  the  Sons  of  Lib 
erty,  whom  we  left  utterly  demoralized  by 
the  victory  of  Hamilton  in  1788.  Among 
the  troops  of  Pennsylvania  an  organization 
had  sprung  up  dedicated  to  a  Sagamore  In 
dian  Job,  a  sort  of  canonized  chief  called  St. 


Aaron  Burr  27 

Tammand.  The  12th  of  May  was  celebrated 
as  his  birthday.  A  great  wigwam  was 
erected,  a  liberty  pole  raised  aloft,  and 
around  it  danced,  in  Indian  fashion,  with 
tomahawks,  feathers  and  strings  of  wampum 
the  palefaced  braves,  wrought  up  to  a  high 
degree  of  patriotism  by  generous  supplies 
of  firewater.  Other  St.  Tammand  societies 
were  organized  in  other  divisions  of  the 
army,  but  their  orgies  were  so  frequent  and 
so  long  enduring  that  orders  were  issued  for 
bidding  their  continuance.  But  civil  Tam 
many  societies  were  formed  in  the  cities, 
and  in  New  York  St.  Tammany  survived 
the^  days  of  the  army. 

..^William  Mooney,  an  American  of  Irish  de 
scent,  had  been  a  leader  of  "The  Sons  of 
Liberty."  He  was  an  upholsterer,  having 
establishments  successively  on  Nassau 
street,  Maiden  Lane,  and  Chatham  street. 
He  was  ignorant,  pompous,  and  fond  of  dis 
play.  The  former  Sons  of  Liberty  gradu 
ally  came  over  to  Tammany,  and  Mooney 
became  the  first  Grand  Sachem  of  the  reor 
ganized  Society.  He  had  hoped  to  make  Co 
lumbus  the  patron  saint,  but  the  Indian  cele 
brations  were  the  most  popular  part  of  the 
ceremonies,  and  so  he  compromised  on  the 
names,  and  called  it  "Tammany  Society,  or 
Columbian  Order."  The  orgaaizatio^a^  w>as 
entirely  anti-English.  The  officers  were:  a 
Great  Father,  thirteen  Sachems,  a  Sagamore 

or  Master  of  Ceremonies,  a  Winkiskee  or 

t 


28      Five  American  Politicians 

Doorkeeper,  and  a  Scribe.  At  first  the  so 
ciety  met  at  Barden's  City  Hotel  on  Broad 
way,  next  in  a  public  house  on  Broad  street, 
and  finally  it  found  more  permanent  quar 
ters  in  "Martling's  Long  Room/'  a  one- 
story  adjunct  to  Martling's  Tavern.  The 
propensities  of  these  early  braves  may  be 
imagined  from  the  name  popularly  given 
to  their  meeting  place,  "pig-pen."  Here, 
after  business  was  done,  tradition  says,  rev 
elry  began.  The  master  of  ceremonies  was 
usually  a  jovial  and  convivial  soul,  and  there 
was  never  wanting  of  song,  story  and  al 
Halleck's  familiar  quatrain  was  drawn  fr 
observation. 

"There's  a  barrel  of  porter  in  Tammany  hall, 
And  the  Bucktails  are  swigging  it  all  the 

night  long, 
In  the  time  of  my  childhood  'twas  pleasant 

to  call 

For   a   seat   and    cigar   'mid   the   jovial 
throng." 

At  this  time  the  Society  was  ostensibly 
non-political,  though  the  bulk  of  the  mem 
bership  was  Anti-Federal.  Occasionally  the 
12th  of  May  was  made  a  public  holiday,  and 
was  celebrated  like  the  Fourth  of  July. 
Later,  however,  a  new  constitution  was 
adopted,  and  this  gradually  transformed 
the  character  of  Tammany.  The  ostensible 
object  was  still  the  promulgation  of  conviv 
iality,  the  strengthening  of  the  bonds  of 


Aaron  Burr  29 

brotherhood,  and  the  distribution  of  charity. 
In  those  days  there  were  few  social  clubs,  and 
Martling's  long  room  became  a  place  of 
frequent  resort. 

But  Tammany  was  a  secret  order,  and  ev 
ery  member  was  pledged  to  maintain  the  im 
portance  of  the  state,  as  distinguished  from 
the  federal,  government.  Herein  lurked  the 
political  serpent  that  soon  was  to  rise  and 
strike  the  death-blow  to  the  Federal  party. 
Who  contrived  this  constitution,  so  artfully 
blending  charity,  fellowship  and  politics? 
Not  Mooney,  for  he  could  not.  Feathers 
and  paint  were  his  limit.  He  could  arrange 
showy  ceremonies  and  glow  in  exultation 
over  a  gaudy  display  of  Indian  trappings. 
But  he  was  not  astute.  He  was  a  tool. 

The  prevailing  opinion  of  that  time,  and 
the  evidence  of  the  political  events  that  soon 
transpired,  point  to  Burr  as  the  real  founder 
of  political  Tammany.  He  himself  never 
was  a  member.  This  was  truly  Burrian. 
He  always  hid  himself  under  his  design, 
and  averted  public  gaze  from  his  own  pur 
poses.  But  all  of  his  intimate  friends  and 
lieutenants  were  members.  They  con 
trolled  all  the  tribes,  held  all  the  offices,  and 
carried  out  his  secret  orders.  The  ceremony- 
loving  Mooney  was  his  political  valet.  Burr 
patronized  him  in  business,  in  return  for 
his  subservience,  but  his  payments  were  in 
the  form  of  credits  which  the  upholsterer's 
executor  found  impossible  to  convert  into 


30      Five  American  Politicians 

cash.  Burr  was  by  instinct  an  aristocrat. 
He  was  never  vulgar,  and  shrank  from  the 
coarse.  He  could  find  no  pleasure  in  the 
rough  house  at  Mart/ling's.  But  he  needed 
the  men.  He  was  a  Democrat  by  design. 
The  mob  was  to  be  his  pedestal.  The  Feder 
alists  were  paying  little  attention  to  the 
poorer  freeholders.  New  York  was  growing 
rapidly,  and  the  number  of  cottage  owners 
was  increasing  with  every  influx  of  immigra 
tion.  When  Hamilton  made  his  shrewd 
bargain  with  the  loyalists,  there  were  scarce 
14,000  freeholders  in  all  the  state.  This 
number  was  doubled  by  the  time  Burr  was 
ready  to  challenge  Hamilton  to  the  political 
fray.  And  naturally  the  number  of  small 
freeholders  increased  more  rapidly  than  the 
rich. 

Moreover,  Hamilton  had  an  organization 
in  The  Cincinnati.  True,  it  was  not  a  polit 
ical  organization,  but  its  membership  was 
overwhelmingly  Federal.  Burr  was  a  mem 
ber  of  The  Cincinnati,  but  not  a  courted  mem 
ber,  as  was  Hamilton.  The  brilliant  favor 
ite  of  Washington  was  its  life,  its  spirit,  and 
its  leader.  Tradition  relates  that  at  its 
meetings  Burr  would  sit  alone  and  mor 
ose,  while  his  rival  was  surrounded  by  ad 
miring,  worshiping  friends.  This  is  prob 
ably,  like  so  many  traditions  about  Burr, 
a  cruel  exaggeration.  But  Burr  was  not 
popular  among  any  circles  in  which  Hamil 
ton  moved.  The  champion  of  centraliza- 


X 


Aaron  Burr  31 

tion  took  jealous  care  that  Burr  should 
not  shine  in  his  planetary  system. 

So  Burr,  deep  plotting,  laying  plans  for  a 
decade,  organized  a  counter-contrivance; 
not  that  he  might  be  the  center  of  an  ador 
ing  circle,  but  that  he  might  have  a  fulcrum 
upon  which  to  rest  the  lever  that  was  to  lift 
Hamilton  and  the  Federalist  party  out  of 
power  forever.  Silently  and  adroitly  he 
gathered  together  the  remnants  of  the  Sons 
of  Liberty,  the  discontented,  the  anti-aristo 
cratic,  and  organized  them  into  a  secret 
band,  powerful  and  perfectly  centralized. 
He  cautiously  hid  the  true  import  of  his  or 
ganization  from  the  public  gaze,  and  under 
the  cloak  of  charity  and  fellowship  he  per 
fected  a  political  machine,  welded  together 
by  solemn  and  secret  Anti-Federal  obliga 
tions.  He  coined  that  childish  delight 
which  men  manifest  in  display  and  pomp 
into  political  capital;  and  transmuted  paint 
and  feathers  into  majorities. 

To  the  public,  all  this  while,  Burr  was  not 
a  violent  Anti-Federalist.  Moderation  was 
the  cloak  of  his  intemperance.  He  worked 
in  unison  with  Hamilton  in  1789  to  defeat 
George  Clinton.  He  labored  for  many  Fed 
eral  measures  when  a  member  of  the  legis 
lature,  and  even  when  Vice-President  he  cast 
the  deciding  ballot  for  the  Federalists  on  sev 
eral  important  occasions.  Party  lines  were 
not  as  permanently  drawn  then  as  they  are 
now,  and  many  public  men  turned  from  one 


32      Five  American  Politicians         \ 

party  to  the  other.  Burr  perhaps  often  did 
by  design,  what  others  did  from  principle. 
And  remember  that  Burr  never  hastened  an 
event  by  precipitate  action.  He  perfected 
his  Tammany  slowly.  Mooney  was  elected 
first  Grand  Sachem  in  1789.  Burr  was  not 
ready  to  use  the  full  power  of  Tammany  un 
til  1800. 

Meanwhile,  he  had  risen  to  a  place  of 
national  eminence.  In  1791  he  was  elected 
United  States  senator.  And  this  over  the 
head  of  General  Philip  Schuyler,  whose  seat 
he  was  contesting.  The  General  was  the 
leader  of  the  powerful  Schuyler  interests ;  he 
was  the  father-in-law  of  Hamilton,  then  in  the 
zenith  of  his  glory  as  Secretary  of  the  Treas 
ury  in  Washington's  cabinet  and  considered 
the  strongest  man  in  political  circles ;  he  wras 
a  hero  of  the  Revolution,  to  which  he  had 
contributed  wealth  and  for  which  he  will 
ingly  risked  his  life ;  he  was  known  through 
out  the  nation.  Moreover,  the  Federalists 
had  a  majority  in  both  branches  of  the  legisla 
ture,  and  General  Schuyler  was  the  embodi 
ment  of  dignified  Federalism.  On  the  other 
hand,  the  youthful  Burr  had  never  tampered 
with  national  politics,  was  scarcely  known  be 
yond  his  own  state,  had  not  held  higher  state 
office  than  attorney-general,  had  not  wealth, 
had  no  vast  following,  had  no  claims  at  all 
on  the  Federalists,  no  special  claim  on  the 
Republicans.  His  election  has  always  been 
considered  one  of  the  mysteries  of  his 


Aaron  Burr  33 

strange  and  adventurous  career.  The  pa 
pers  of  those  days  are  silent  as  to  the  causes 
that  conspired  in  his  favor.  And  the  letters 
of  the  principals  cast  little  light  upon  the 
subject.  The  vote  shows  that  Burr  suc 
ceeded  in  uniting  the  Clintons  and  Living 
stones  against  the  Schuylers.  The  Clintons 
were  Anti-Federalists  and  the  Schuylers' 
jealousy  of  Hamilton  dispelled  their  Federal 
predilections.  Burr's  sole  reliance  in  this 
unequal  contest  was  upon  his  personal 
prowess.  The  same  compelling  charm  of 
manner  and  persuasive  voice  that  a  dozen 
years  later  bade  a  rough  frontier  sheriff, 
who  had  entered  a  house  to  arrest  Burr,  to 
cast  aside  his  weapons  and  become  a  willing 
slave  to  this  fascinating  man,  now  enchanted 
the  legislators  and  they  willingly  gave  their 
votes  to  a  young  man  whose  brilliancy  would 
add  lustre  to  the  state  and  whose  talents 
would  win  fame  on  any  field  of  action. 

Burr's  election  was  a  supreme  disappoint 
ment  to  Hamilton.  From  this  day  forth  he 
sought  by  all  possible  means,  public  and 
private,  to  compass  the  downfall  of  his  suc 
cessful  rival.  If  he  had  taken  a  most  solemn 
oath  to  destroy  Burr  he  could  not  more  re 
lentlessly  and  cruelly  have  pursued  him; 
if  fate  had  marked  Burr  as  the  victim  of  her 
wrath  she  could  not  more  unmercifully 
more  bitterly  have  multiplied  his  woe. 

The  six  years  of  Burr's  term  in  the  senate 
appear  to  have  passed  tranquilly  enough.  His 


34      Five  American  Politicians 

fertile  and  active  mind  fitted  naturally  into 
any  tasks.  He  made  a  brilliant  senator,  if 
not  a  great  one.  He  labored  daily  without 
ceasing,  from  five  in  the  morning  until  mid 
night.  As  a  committee  worker  he  had  no 
peer.  But  he  did  not  originate  one  great 
measure.  He-^as  not  a  constructive  states 
man.  His  name  did  not  at  once  conjure  up 
in  the  popular  mind  a  noble  cause,  it  was 
not  a  synonym  for  a  great  purpose.  HJ£_WJIS 
first  a  politician,  next  a  lawyer  finally  a 
legislator.  He  never  openeclaeBate,  "Tmt 
could  most  effectively  close  the  discussion, 
his  compact  arguments  summarizing  in  mas 
terly  manner  the  merits  or  faults  of  the 
cause. 

j   But  underneath  this  quiet  surface  were 
>/at  work  two  great  forces.     One  was  the 
(C     ambition  of  Burr  and  the  other  the  purpose 
of  Hamilton.     The  ambition  of  one  was  the 
presidential  chair,  the  purpose  of  the  other 
was  the  utter  annihilation  of  that  ambition : 
the   ambition   of   one   was   wholly   selfish, 
the  purpose  of  the  other  was  not  untinged 
[by  jealousy.      Several  events  will  indicate 
the  quiet  but  powerful  flow  of  these  counter 
acting  forces. 

In  those  days  the  governorship  of  New 
York  was  one  of  the  great  political  prizes. 
Its  extensive  patronage  and  opulent  salary 
combined  to  make  it  a  place  of  dignity  and 
power,  sought  by  the  most  distinguished 
men  of  the  day.  George  Clinton  had  held 


Aaron  Burr  35 

the  position  for  many  terms  and  was  a 
thorn  in  the  side  of  the  Federalists.  In 
1792  a  plan  was  set  on  foot  to  nominate 
Burr,  hoping  thereby  to  unite  the  Feder 
alists  and  the  anti-Clinton  following  among 
the  Republicans.  Burr  would  undoubtedly 
have  carried  the  state,  but  Hamilton  prompt 
ly  refused  to  sanction  his  nomination  and 
named  John  Jay  for  the  honor.  Clinton 
was  reflected  and  offered  Burr  a  place  upon 
the  Supreme  Bench  of  the  state,  which  was 
promptly  declined.  His  eye  was  fixed  upon 
a  more  glittering  prize. 

In  1792  there  was  some  talk  of  making 
Burr  Vice-President,  and  he  received  one 
vote.  Burr  himself  never  took  this  seri 
ously.  His  time  had  not  yet  arrived.  But 
Hamilton  grew  alarmed  at  the  prospects 
and  wrote  to  Rufus  King  that  he  felt  it 
"to  be  a  religious  duty  to  oppose  his  [Burr's] 
career."  Never  did  man  live  up  to  his  re 
ligious  duty  with  greater  ardor.  But  in  the 
ne^t  presidential  election  Burr  received 
thirty  electoral  votes,  enough  to  show  that 
his  reputation  was  no  longer  limited  by 
the  boundaries  of  his  state  and  that  his 
abilities  were  ranked  with  those  of  Jeffer 
son,  Thomas  Pinckney,  Adams,  and  John 
Jay.  John  Adams  was  elected  by  a  bare 
majority  of  three  over  Thomas  Jefferson. 
The  Republican  party  was  making  deep  in 
roads  into  the  ranks  of  the  Federalists. 
Hamilton  viewed  the  result  with  apprehen- 


/  rei 

/  mi 

(  of 

X  ph 


36      Five  American  Politicians 

sion.  He  seemed  to  believe  that  Jefferson 
was  the  arch  enemy  of  the  Union,  and  that 
Burr  was  an  evil  genius  whose  sway  would 
plunge  all  things  into  utter  ruin.  He  thor 
oughly  succeeded  in  convincing  Washington 
that  Burr  was  a  wicked,  unprincipled,  un- 
wrorthy  man. 

~~  In  1794  there  was  a  loud  clamor  for  the 
removal  of  Gouverneur  Morris,  the  American 
minister  in  Paris.  A  congressional  caucus 
Republicans  recommended  Burr  for  the- 
ace,  and  a  committee  headed  by  Madison 
made  known  their  wish  to  the  President- 
Washington  replied  that  he  had  made  it  a 
rule  of  his  life  never  to  nominate  a  man 
for  high  office  of  whose  integrity  he  was  not 
assured.  Later,  when  war  with  France 
seemed  imminent  and  Washington  was 
placed  in  command  of  the  national  army, 
he  appointed  Hamilton  to  a  high  command, 
.  but  refused  to  recognize  Burr,  who  was  by 
f  far  the  ablest  soldier  of  them  all.  This  an 
tipathy  for  Burr  in  the  bosom  of  Washing 
ton  was  the  harvest  of  Hamilton's  planting. 
Even  in  the  farewell  address  Hamilton  wrote 
for  Washington,  he  took  a  thrust  at  Burr's 
political  methods,  when  he  warned  his 
countrymen  to  avoid  secret  and  sinister 
political  organizations  and  combinations. 

In  1797  the  Federalists  were  again  in  the 
ascendant  in  New  York.  They  finally  had 
succeeded  in  making  John  Jay  governor. 
They  controlled  both  branches  of  the  legis- 


Aaron  Burr  37 

lature  by  large  majorities,  and  elected  good 
old  General  Schuyler  to  succeed  Burr  in 
the  senate  by  an  all  but  unanimous  vote. 
It  looked  as  if  Burr's  sun  had  set.  Hamil 
ton  was  short-sighted  enough  to  think  so. 
But  before  the  result  of  the  ballot  had  been 
announced,  Burr  was  forming  plans  for  the 
overthrow  of  Federalism  in  the  election  of 
1800.  And  first  he  secured  his  own  election 
to  the  state  legislature.  With  his  powerful 
machine  in  New  York  city  this  was  an  easy 
task.  At  Albany  he  was  busied  in  forming 
the  friendship  of  party  leaders  from  the 
rural  districts.  He  would  dine  them,  play 
skilfully  upon  their  unsophisticated  minds, 
and  flatter  their  vanity  by  requesting  that 
they  introduce  bills  and  resolutions  he  had 
prepared. 

In  the  session  of  1799  he  resorted  to  a 
trick  that  reminds  one  forcibly  of  the  pres 
ent  day  methods.  At  that  time  the  banking 
business  of  New  York  city  was  monopolized 
by  wealthy  Federalists,  and  Republican 
merchants  often  found  it  difficult  to  obtain 
accommodation  from  them.  The  yellow 
fever  had  ravaged  the  city  the  year  before, 
and  it  was  commonly  supposed  the  epidemic 
was  due  to  impure  water.  Burr  saw  his 
opportunity  and  introduced  a  bill  charter 
ing  "  The  Manhattan  Company,"  ostensibly 
for  the  laudable  purpose  of  supplying  the 
city  with  pure  water.  The  amount  of  capi 
tal  necessary  could  not  be  definitely  fore- 


38      Five  American  Politicians 

told,  so  the  petitioners  prayed  for  authority 
to  raise  two  million  dollars,  thinking  it  more 
desirable  to  contend  with  a  surplus  than  a 
deficit.  In  order  to  utilize  properly  a  sur 
feit,  should  they  have  one,  they  asked  that 
"the  surplus  capital  might  be  employed 
in  any  way  not  inconsistent  with  the  laws 
and  constitution  of  the  United  States  or 
of  the  State  of  New  York."  This  bill  Burr 
introduced  at  the  very  end  of  the  session 
and  it  was  hurried  through,  the  members 
voting  for  it  without  even  reading  it.  Gov 
ernor  Jay  signed  the  bill  in  spite  of  admon 
itions  from  the  Chief  Justice  of  the  state 
that  the  surplus  capital  clause  was  too 
vague.  The  waterworks  were  never  built. 
But  the  Manhattan  Bank  was  at  once  es 
tablished,  and  the  Republicans  had  a  finan- 
icial  institution.  This  bit  of  duplicity  de 
feated  Burr  in  April  of  that  year  for  reelec 
tion  to  the  legislature.  But  a  greater  con 
test  was  at  hand. 

The  supreme  political  struggle  in  the  life 
of  Aaron  Burr  was  the  presidential  election 
of  1800.  To  overthrow  the  Federalists  was 
the  cherished  hope  of  his  heart.  To  share 
in  the  fruits  of  victory,  either  as  president 
or  vice-president,  was  the  shining  summit 
of  his  ambition.  To  this  end  had  he  la 
bored  while  in  the  national  senate,  winning 
loyal  adherents  among  the  representatives  of 
the  southern  and  western  states,  for  he  knew 
New  England  would  remain  Federal  beyond 


Aaron  Burr  39 

the  reach  of  any  Republican.  To  this  end 
he  had  organized  his  city  following  into  a 
compact  secret  order.  To  this  end  had  he 
gone  to  the  legislature  and  courted  the 
favor  of  country  members.  And  now  to 
this  end  he  bent  the  tremendous  energies 
of  his  intellect.  Four  years  before  the 
Democrats  were  within  three  votes  of  vic 
tory.  If  New  York  could  be  won,  then  the 
first  Democratic  President  would  enter  the 
new  capitol  in  triumph.  What  were  the 
prospects?  In  1798  the  Federalist  Jay  had 
been  elected  by  a  majority  of  2382,  a  tre 
mendous  victory  for  that  time.  In  1799 
Burr  himself  was  defeated  by  over  900  ma 
jority  for  the  legislature.  The  Federalists 
controlled  both  state  and  national  govern 
ments.  They  were  confident  and  jubilant. 
Jefferson  wrote  that  he  feared  the  election 
would  be  even  more  unfavorable  than  in 
1796.  But  Aaron  Burr  taught  the  Demo 
cratic  party  how  to  wrest  victory  from  the 
jaws  of  defeat. 

First  of  all,  he  organized  his  following. 
Now  we  must  return  to  Tammany,  the  or 
ganization  which  formed  the  nucleus  of  the 
first  party  discipline  in  America.  Through 
Tammany,  Burr  controlled  the  artisans,  the 
poorer  freeholders.  His  own  home  became 
the  rendezvous  of  his  most  trusted  lieuten 
ants,  whose  hearts  were  kindled  by  the  fire 
of  his  own  zeal. 

In  the  second  place  he  selected    a   not- 


40      Five  American  Politicians 

able  list  of  candidates  for  the  legislature. 
The  audacity  and  sagacity  displayed  in  his 
^choice  and  the  skill  and  rare  tact  required 
to  persuade  them  to  accept,  dazzled  even 
his  friends.  All  the  antagonizing  elements 
must  be  brought  together  in  harmony  on 
the  face  of  a  single  ticket.  Burr,  of  course, 
must  be  in  the  legislature,  for  at  this  time 
the  legislators  selected  the  presidential  elec 
tors.  But  his  Manhattan  escapade  had 
made  him  enemies.  So  he  became  a  candi 
date  from  Orange  county,  where  he  was 
very  popular. 

In  the  city  he  chose  George  Clinton  to 
head  the  ticket.  Himself  an  aspirant  for 
the  presidency  who  had  received  fifty  elec 
toral  votes  out  of  132,  in  1793,  when  Jeffer 
son  had  only  four,  and  not  a  friend  of  Jeffer 
son,  should  he  now  become  an  aid  to  his  pro 
motion?  He  was  an  old  man,  who  had 
been  in  the  public  eye  for  nearly  half  a 
century,  a  big,  honest,  strong-willed  Irish 
man.  For  three  days  he  resisted  the  at 
tacks  of  Burr,  of  committees,  of  sub-com 
mittees.  Finally  Burr  said  that  in  a  crisis 
it  is  for  the  people  to  demand  service,  and 
that  he  would  be  nominated  anyway.  The 
old  war  horse  stubbornly  conceded  not  pub 
licly  to  withdraw  his  name. 

Second  in  the  list  stood  General  Gates, 
the  gallant  conqueror  of  Burgoyne,  a  stanch 
adherent  of  Burr,  and  an  antagonist  of 
Hamilton  and  the  Schuylers.  Yet  his  aver- 


Aaron  Burr  41 

sion  to  running  for  the  legislature  was 
greater  than  his  hatred  for  the  Schuylers 
and  his  love  for  Burr.  Artful  and  impor 
tunate  were  the  entreaties  that  the  brilliant 
politician  poured  into  the  ears  of  his  old 
commander,  who  finally  said  that  he  would 
remain  on  the  ticket  if  Clinton  would. 

Third  on  this  remarkable  list  stood 
Brockholst  Livingstone,  a  gifted  member  of 
that  influential  tribe  that  now  had  fully  iden 
tified  itself  with  the  Republican  party.  He 
proved  a  little  more  tractable,  and  prom 
ised  to  accept  the  nomination  on  condition 
that  Gates  and  Clinton  did. 

The  other  nine  men  were  comparatively 
easy  of  conquest.  They  were  all  men  of 
ability,  chosen  for  their  influence  over  vari 
ous  groups.  I  do  not  believe  that  a  stronger 
legislative  ticket  was  ever  placed  before  any 
electorate.  And  no  one  but  Burr  could  have 
conceived  such  a  list,  and  talents  less  capti 
vating  than  his  would  have  failed  in  persuad 
ing  the  men  to  stand. 

A  great  mass  meeting  was  next  called  to 
ratify  this  remarkable  ticket,  and  the  public 
campaign  moved  rapidly  forward  under  the 
personal  guidance  and  inspiration  of  the  ir 
repressible  Burr.  Ward  meetings,  precinct 
meetings,  enormous  mass" meetings,  were  in 
flamed  by  the  passion  of  his  speech.  What 
is  probably  the  first  poll  list  made  in  an 
American  campaign  was  prepared  by  his 
lieutenants,  and  every  voter  in  the  city  was 


42      Five  American  Politicians 

recorded  in  these  lists,  together  with  his  pol- 
-\-  itics,  his  zeal,  his  temperament,  health,  hab 
its,  and  his  vulnerable  points. 

Tammany  was  the  beehive  of  this  busy 
scene.  Men  were  brought  into  the  wigwam 
by  scores,  and  initiated  into  the  order.  So 
cial,- political,  financial,  and  all  other  species 
*r  of  persuasion  were  used  to  compel  the  reluc 
tant  to  take  the  oath.  The  unstable  were 
escorted  to  the  polls,  and  their  ballot  jeal 
ously  guarded.  From  grand  sachem  to  brave 
there  was  not  an  idle  tongue  and  indolent 
hand  in  the  wigwam  of  the  potent  Sagamore. 

In  those  days  elections  were  not  the  affair 
of  a  day.  There  was  no  registering,  no  com 
plicated  ballot  with  its  bewildering  list  of 
names.  The  voter  simply  walked  to  the  box 
and  dropped  his  simple  ballot.  The  election 
occupied  three  days,  and  they  were  days  of  ex 
citement,  of  haranguing,  of  drinking,  of  bet 
ting,  and  I  fear,  often  of  personal  encounter. 
Hamilton's  eloquence  flowed  continuously  for 
the  three  days  of  this  notable  election,  and 
while  he  held  the  masses  under  the  spell  of  his 
voice,  Burr  was  hurrying  everywhere,  garner 
ing  the  votes.  The  counting  of  the  ballot 
showed  forth  the  success  of  Burr's  methods, 
and  proclaimed  to  the  nation  that  its  first 
political  revolution  had  taken  place.  For 
not  only  did  the  Republicans  carry  the  city, 
but  also  the  state,  and  from  that  day  forth 
it  has  been  almost  uniformly  true,  "  as  goes 
New  York  so  goes  the  country." 


Aaron  Bufr  43 


I  said  this  was  a  political  revolution.  It 
placed  the  Republican  party  in  power.  At 
this  day  we  can  have  no  conception  of  what 
that  meant  to  the  Federalists.  To  them  Jef- 
fersonianism  was  Jacobinism,  was  atheism, 
was  anarchism,  was  annihilation.  The  New 
England  papers  were  filled  with  dismal  fore 
bodings  and  even  contemplated  the  disso 
lution  of  the  Union.  And  yet  these  New 
England  Federalists  had  provided  their  an 
tagonists  with  a  great  issue,  the  Alien  and 
Sedition  laws,  deservedly  unpopular  every 
where.  Hamilton  was  stupefied.  He  wrote 
to  Bayard  of  Dalaware  that  Burr's  Tam 
many  Society  was  the  cause  of  the  Federal 
ist  defeat  in  the  city,  and  Burr's  activity  the 
source  of  the  Republican  strength  in  the 
counties.  He  even  recommended  that  the 
Federalists  organize  a  like  machine,  without 
the  adjunct  of  aboriginal  ceremony. 

All  eyes  now  turned  toward  Jefferson.  It 
should  be  remembered  that  in  those  years 
the  presidential  electors  were  chosen  by  the 
various  state  legislatures,  and  not  all  upon 
the  same  day;  that  there  was  no  general 
nomination  of  any  one  man  for  the  high  of 
fice,  but  that  each  elector  was  left  free  to 
vote  as  he  chose.  It  was  conceded  by  all 
that  Jefferson  was  the  choice  of  the  people. 
Would  he  be  the  choice  of  the  electors?  The 
result  was  not  known  until  the  middle  of  De 
cember.  It  was  disappointing  to  the  Re 
publicans,  and  startling  to  the  Federalists. 


44      Five  American  Politicians 

Jefferson  and  Burr  each  received  73  votes, 
Adams  65,  Pinckney  64,  and  Jay  1.  There 
was  a  tie.  The  electors  had  not  made  a 
choice.  The  House  of  Representatives 
must  decide  for  them. 

All  eyes  were  now  turned  toward  Aaron 
Burr.  Would  he  subvert  the  popular  will 
and  intrigue  with  the  Federalists  to  place 
himself  at  the  head  of  the  government?  Or 
would  he  actively  engage  his  remarkable  po 
litical  talents  in  behalf  of  Jefferson?  The 
great  majority  of  his  contemporaries,  and 
of  historians,  believe  the  former.  Not  even 
his  friends  concede  the  latter.  I  believe 
that  such  evidence  as  can  be  gathered 
proves  that  he  did  neither. 

He  did  intrigue,  before  the  election,  to  be 
come  the  candidate  for  Vice-President.  In 
May,  1800,  an  informal  caucus  of  Republicans 
was  held  in  Philadelphia,  wherein  it  was 
determined  to  give  New  York  the  vice-pres 
idency,  Jefferson  being  the  only  man  con 
templated  for  the  presidency.  For  the  sec 
ond  place,  Chancellor  Livingstone,  Governor 
Clinton,  and  Aaron  Burr  were  mentioned. 
Albert  Gallatin  was  asked  to  sound  these 
men.  He  wrote  to  Commodore  Nicholson, 
of  New  York,  requesting  him  to  see  them, 
and  to  converse  freely  with  party  leaders 
to  determine  their  availability. 

Livingstone  was  old  and  deaf,  and  there 
fore  dropped  at  once.     Clinton  was  the  pop 
ular  choice,  but  he  maintained  that  advanced 


Aaron  Burr  45 

age,  ill  health  and  family  contingencies  all 
combined  to  disincline  him  toward  the  place. 
He  really  thought  himself  entitled  to  the 
first  place  in  the  Anti-Federal  ranks.  Nich 
olson  insisted  that  the  welfare  of  the  party 
demanded  his  acceptance  of  the  nomina 
tion,  and  Clinton  reluctantly  yielded.  Nich 
olson  was  so  favorably  impressed  that  he 
wrote  a  letter  to  the  Philadelphia  caucus, 
recommending  Clinton.  But  he  showed 
this  letter  to  Burr  before  it  was  posted,  and 
when  the  seal  was  finally  put  on  the  envel 
ope,  the  name  of  Clinton  had  been  erased, 
and  that  of  Aaron  Burr  written  in  its  place. 
What  wiles  did  the  crafty  Burr  use  in  per- 
suading  the  old  commodore?  During  the 
excitement  of  the  following  winter,  when 
the  whole  nation  was  at  a  white  heat,  and 
when  one  word  form  Burr  would  have  re 
stored  sanity  to  a  crazed  people,  it  must  have 
occurred  to  Nicholson  that  the  fate  of  the 
young  republic  seemed  to  depend  upon  that 
erasure. 

That  Burr,  however,  designed  to  defeat 
Jefferson  after  the  voice  of  the  people  had 
spoken  so  clearly,  is  mere  conjecture.  If 
he  did  so  intend,  he  succeeded  in  completely 
hiding  all  evidences.  The  Republicans  had 
bungled  in  the  arranging  of  the  electoral 
vote.  They  could  easily  have  avoided  the 
tie,  by  dropping  one  vote  from  Burr.  This 
was  contemplated  by  the  Virginia  delega 
tion,  but  a  report  that  New  York  would  do 


46      Five  American  Politicians 

the  same  thing,  induced  them  to  abandon 
the  plan.  Did  Burr  start  this  report?  There 
is  no  such  evidence.  Did  Burr  confuse  the 
Republican  leaders  into  this  blunder?  Prej 
udice,  and  not  evidence,  answers  yes. 

The  Federalists  of  New  England  preferred 
Burr  to  Jefferson.  Their  papers,  their  let 
ters,  their  pamphlets,  all  are  frank  in  this 
avowal.  The  "Boston  Sentinel"  says: 
"The  Federal  states  in  Congress  will  give 
T  Mr.  Burr  their  suffrages.  Mr.  Burr  has 
never  yet  been  charged  with  writing  libelous 
letters  against  the  government  of  his  coun 
try  to  foreigners,  and  his  politics  always 
have  been  open  and  undisguised.  It  is 
granted  he  is  ambitious,  but  he  is  no  hypo 
crite,  and  though  he  is  like  Bonaparte  in 
some  respects,  he  possesses  none  of  the  cold- 
hearted  qualities  of  the  Gallic  Consul." 

This  was  the  prevailing  New  England  sen 
timent.  Had  the  house  of  representatives 
convened  in  December,  1800,  to  choose  a 
president,  the  New  England  Federalists 
would  have  given  their  support  to  Burr. 
What  influence  overcame  their  predilections? 
There  was  only  one  power  in  the  Federal  party 
potent  enough  to  avert  the  elevation  of  Burr 
over  Jefferson.  It  was  the  power  of  Hamil 
ton.  The  genius  of  that  gifted  man  was  now 
applied  to  the  single  object  of  keeping  his 
hated  rival  out  of  the  presidential  chair. 
He  first  tried  to  steal  the  electoral  vote  of 
New  York  by  having  Governor  Jay  call  an 


Aaron  Burr  47 

extra  session  of  the  legislature  and  pass  a 
bill  that  should  provide  that  the  presiden 
tial  electors  be  appointed  by  districts  and 
not  by  the  newly  -  elected  legislature. 
Governor  Jay  refused  to  be  a  party  to  such 
a  scheme.  Two  years  before  Burr  had  tried 
to  inaugurate  a  similar  method  of  choosing 
the  electors,  and  had  been  roundly  denounced 
for  this  partisan  trickery. 

Hamilton  now  turned  to  his  personal 
friends  in  the  party.  He  wrote,  expostu 
lated,  argued,  pleaded.  To  all  he  pictured 
Burr  as  without  principle,  profligate,  selfish  ; 
a  Caesar,  a  Catiline,  a  Bonaparte  whose  elec 
tion  would  disgrace  the  country,  if  not  hurl 
it  to  ruin.  A  perusal  of  Hamilton's  letters 
reveals  the  skill  with  which  he  adapted  his 
arts  to  the  various  individuals  he  desired  to 
sway,  and  leaves  one  wondering  how  much 
the  spirit  of  jealousy  prompted  his  patriot-' 
ism. 

As  the  day  for  the  election  in  the  House 
of  Representatives  neared,  the  excitement 
increased.  The  House  consisted  of  106 
members,  the  majority  of  whom  were  Fed 
eralists.  Of  the  sixteen  states  in  the  Union, 
it  was  necessary  to  secure  a  majority  for 
election.  This  federal  house  was  limited 
in  its  choice  to  an  Anti-Federal  candidate. 
How  strange  this  sounds  to  our  ears!  We 
can  hardly  conceive  a  Republican  house 
electing  a  Democratic  president.  The  con 
stitution  then  prescribed  that  the  choice 


48      Five  American  Politicians 

should  be  restricted  to  the  two  receiving  the 
highest  number  of  electoral  votes.  If  only 
a  majority  of  the  members  had  sufficed 
Burr  would  have  been  chosen  on  the  first 
ballot.  But  he  could  not  secure  a  majority 
of  the  states.  The  House,  before  beginning 
to  ballot,  resolved  not  to  adjourn  until  an 
election  had  been  effected.  After  taking  29 
ballots,  they  eluded  this  resolution  by  tak 
ing  a  recess.  Every  member  was  present. 
Some  sick  members  were  cared  for  on  sofas, 
and  one  member  was  so  seriously  ill  that  he 
was  attended  by  his  wife.  The  balloting 
was  done  behind  closed  doors.  After  seven 
days  of  voting,  Bayard,  of  Delaware,  cast  the 
vote  of  his  state  for  Jefferson,  and  thus  ter 
minated  one  of  the  most  memorable  contests 
for  the  presidency  in  our  country's  history. 
Throughout  this  exciting  period,  Burr 
bore  himself  with  the  dignity  and  poise  that 
became  a  candidate  for  the  high  office  of 
.Vice-President.  He  spent  his  days  at  Al 
bany  as  a  member  of  the  legislature,  or  in 
New  York  attending  to  his  practice.  His 
friends,  it  is  true,  were  busy  in  his  behalf 
among  the  Federalist  members  of  the  House. 
How  far  they  carried  their  electioneering, 
and  to  what  extent  Burr  encouraged  them, 
will  probably  always  remain  one  of  th^-se- 
crets  of  our  history.  The  vituperative  par 
tisan  accounts  published  by  Cheetham  and 
other  of  his  bitterest  enemies,  cannot  be  re 
lied  upon  as  sources.  They  reveal  only 


Aaron  Burr  49 


souls  surcharged  with  the  gall  of  hate. 
Their  vital  sentences  all  begin  with  "It  is 
said,"  or  "It  is  reported,"  or  "They  re 
late."  Nothing  authoritative  is  found  in  all 
their  rancorous  literature. 

Burr  might  easily  have  secured  the  elec 
tion  had  he  put  forth  personal  effort,  and 
given  even  an  equivocal  renunciation  of  Re 
publicanism.  Judge  Cooper,  father  of  the 
novelist,  and  a  Federal  member  of  the  House, 
wrote  to  Thomas  Morris  on  the  third  day  of 
the  balloting:  "Had  Burr  done  anything 
for  himself,  he  would  long  ere  this  have  been 
President.  If  a  majority  would  answer,  he 
would  have  it  on  every  vote."  Bayard, 
whose  course  decided  the  election,  wrote 
Hamilton:  "The  means  existed  of  electing 
Burr,  but  this  required  his  cooperation. 
By  deceiving  one  man  (a  great  blockhead) 
and  tempting  two  (not  incorruptible),  he 
might  have  secured  a  majority  of  the  states." 

Burr  did  not  make  the  requisite  movement 
to  secure  these  votes.  He  remained  utterly 
passive. 

Nor  did  his  spirit  require  him  to  exert  him 
self  in  behalf  of  a  man  for  whose  talents  he 
had  little  admiration,  and  whose  sentimen- 
talism  he  detested.  For  Burr  had  never 
loved  Jefferson.  He  now  did  not  feel 
called  to  aid  his  election.  He  kept  himself 
entirely  aloof  from  the  contest.  He  pur 
sued  the  attitude  of  a  man  who  would  ac 
cept  the  presidency  if  elected,  but  would  not 

4 

/  v>  ^ 
^ 


50      Five  American  Politicians 

as  much  as  raise  a  finger,  either  in  his  own 
behalf,  or  in  behalf  of  his  rival. 

Brave  as  a  soldier,  brilliant  as  a  lawyer, 
unrivaled  as  a  politician,  he  was  now  in  the 
zenith  of  his  splendor.  Had  his  feet  rested 
upon  the  firm  foundation  of  a  great  cause, 
or  noble  character,  the  clouds  that  now  gath 
ered  rapidly  about  him  would  not  have  ob 
scured  his  glory.  But  his  station  had  been 
reached  by  the  arts  of  the  politician.  De 
sign,  not  greatness  of  purpose,  had  won  him 
power.  He  could  organize  and  inspire  a 
machine,  but  he  could  not  dazzle  the  multi 
tude.  Since  the  death  of  his  wife,  in  1794, 
he  became  as  careless  of  his  morals  as  he  was 
profligate  of  his  money.  There  is  a  time  in 
the  career  of  every  public  man  when  he 
must  rely  on  something  far  greater  than  po 
litical  device  for  his  power  over  the  people. 
Alas  for  Burr,  he  lacked  this  one  thing !  The 
people  would  not  rally  to  his  support  when 
the  plotters  of  his  party  turned  their  arts 
against  him. 

A  hotter  presiding  officer  never  guided  the 
routine  of  the  Senate.  He  was  impartial 
arid  immediate  in  His  rulings,  dignified  and 
prompt  in  demeanor,  and  non-partisan 
when  he  held  the  casting  vote.  He  was  a 
very  popular  man  in  the  capital,  and  was 
feted  as  the  general  who  had  led  his  party  to 
its  first  national  victory.  But  he  was  in 
Jefferson's  way.  The  Vice-Presidency  was 


Aaron  Burr  51 


regarded  as  a  stepping-stone  to  the  Presi 
dency.  The  Virginia  dynasty  had  selected 
Madison,  secretary  of  state,  as  the  succes 
sor  to  Jefferson.  All  the  power  of  the  Fed- 
eral  patronage  was  used  against  Burr.  In 
New  York  where  he  should  have  been  con 
sulted  in  the  distribution  of  offices,  he  was 
given  only  a  few  petty  places.  The  Liv 
ingstones  and  Clintons  were  loaded  with  ap 
pointments.  Republican  papers  began  to 
grow  lukewarm  toward  Burr.  The  "  Amer 
ican  Citizen, "Republican  organ  of  New  York, 
edited  by  Cheetham,  an  unscrupulous  En 
glishman,  savagely  attacked  him  because  of 
his  imagined  intrigues  with  the  Federalists. 
The  "Evening  Post,"  founded  by  Hamilton 
and  edited  by  the  able  William  Coleman,  at 
tacked  him  because  of  his  political  methods, 
and  characterized  his  followers  as  a  "band 
of  desperate  and  unsound  citizens."  His 
own  organ,  the  "Morning  Chronicle,"  found 
ed  in  1802  and  edited  by  Peter  Irving,  a 
brother  of  Washington  Irving,  who  was  a 
contributor  to  its  columns,  could  hardly 
neutralize  the  acid  of  these  attacks. 

Thus  the  coldness  of  Jefferson  was  divert 
ing  Republican  sentiment  from  Burr,  and 
the  unabating  efforts  of  Hamilton  were  alien 
ating  the  Federalists  who  had  regarded  him 
with  so  much  favor.  Even  to  a  genius  with 
the  resource  of  an  overshadowing  issue, 
such  a  dual  attack  must  be  fatal. 

The  years  of  his  Vice-Presidency  were 


52      Five  American  Politicians 

passed  amid  such  political  ferment.  Burr 
made  it  a  rule  of  his  life  never  to  answer  a 
charge  or  to  heed  a  calumny.  He  paid  ap 
parently  no  attention  to  the  newspapers. 
They  did  not  disturb  his  serenity  by  day 
nor  his  repose  by  night.  But  his  friends,  of 
whom  he  had  many,  loyal  and  true,  could 
not  sit  idly  by  while  their  chief  was  being 
slandered.  They  hotly  answered  the  attacks. 
The  details  of  this  war  of  epithets  and  person 
alities  are  disgusting.  I  pass  them  by  without 
illustration  or  comment.  But  while  Burr  ap 
peared  indifferent  to  their  disgraceful  libels 
and  to  the  conspiracies  of  Jefferson,  he  was  far 
from  blind  as  to  their  results.  He  foresaw 
that  he  could  not  hope  for  the  undivided  sup 
port  of  his  party  in  the  coming  presidential 
campaign.  In  January,  1804,  he  had  a  long 
conference  with  Jefferson,  and  frankly 
avowed  that  it  would  be  for  the  interests 
of  the  party  and  would  avert  a  schism  if 
he  would  retire  from  the  contest.  The 
President  gave  him  no  other  encouragement 
than  to  assure  him  that  he  never  allowed 
any  one  to  converse  with  him  on  the  sub 
ject  of  candidates.  He  wished  to  leave  that 
entirely  with  the  people;  and  all  the  while 
he  was  conspiring  to  put  Madison  in  Burr's 
place!  In  commenting  on  this  conference 
in  his  diary,  Jefferson  says  that  Burr's  con 
duct  "inspired  me  with  distrust.  I  habit 
ually  cautioned  Mr.  Madison  against  trust 
ing  him  too  much." 


Aaron  Burr  53 


Burr's  hope  for  further  political  promotion 
now  reposed  in  the  arms  of  the  people  of  his 
own  state.  To  them  he  determined  to  ap 
peal.  Could  he  be  chosen  governor  of  New  a 
York  his  prestige  as  the  leader  of  his  party  * 
would  be  unquestioned,  and  he  would  come 
forth  the  rival  of  Jefferson  and  the  peer  of 
Madison.  A  legislative  caucus,  held  in  the 
Tontine  Coffee  House,  nominated  him  for  the 
place.  This  choice  was  subsequently  ratified 
by  great  meetings  held  in  New  York  and 
Albany. 

The  Federalists  were  now  scarcely  a  party 
in  New  York.  They  could  not  hope  to  carry 
an  election,  except  by  unitedly  supporting 
some  other  candidate.  The  Clintonians 
named  Morgan  Lewis  as  their  candidate,  a 
man  of  mediocre  talents  and  a  violent  parti 
san,  who  was  not  altogether  acceptable  to 
the  Federalists.  Yet  to  Hamilton  there  was 
no  choice.  The  passion  of  his  life  was  to 
defeat  Burr.  Hamilton  went  to  Albany  for 
a  conference  with  his  party  associates.  The 
meeting  was  held  in  Lewis's  Tavern  and  was 
supposed  to  be  secret.  But  several  Burrites 
hid  in  an  adjoining  bedroom  and  spied  out 
what  transpired.  The  next  day  the  "  Morning 
Chronicle"  said:  "Last  night  the  leading 
Federal  gentlemen  of  this  place  had  a  meeting 
at  the  city  tavern.  General  Hamilton  ad 
dressed  the  meeting  with  his  usual  eloquence. 
The  principal  part  of  his  speech  went  to  show 
that  no  reliance  can  be  placed  on  Mr.  Burr." 


54      Five  American  Politicians 

The  contest  was  not  one  of  parties  but 
of  factions,  and  factional  wrath  is  far  more 
vituperative  than  partisan  zeal.  Burr's  fol 
lowing  were  held,  by  their  chief,  well  within 
the  precincts  of  decorum.  But  the  Clin- 
tonians  were  fire-eaters.  Their  brands  were 
fed  with  the  oil  of  Federalism.  Cheetham 
especially  reveled  in  libel  and  gorged 
his  spleen  in  handbills  and  pamphlets 
whose  lies  were  equalled  only  by  their  vul 
garity.  Heroic  were  the  efforts  of  Tam 
many  to  wring  victory  from  the  powerful 
coalition  of  its  enemies.  But  it  was  in 
vain.  While  Burr  carried  the  city,  the  state 
gave  Lewis  35,000  votes,  against  28,000  for 
the  Vice-President. 

There  is  a  prevalent  feeling  that  Burr 
was  intent  upon  severing  the  union,  and  by 
becoming  governor  of  New  York  planned 
to  elevate  himself  to  the  Presidency  of 
a  northern  republic  composed  of  the  New 
England  and  North  Atlantic  States.  The 
persistence  of  this  opinion  reveals  the  ease 
with  which  human  nature  is  misled  and 
how  unfair  history  may  become.  The  only 
foundation  for  such  a  slander  is  the  wicked 
imagination  of  the  unprincipled  Cheetham 
and  the  zealous  partisanship  of  Hamilton.. 
Even  if  Burr  had  been  traitorously  minded, 
he  was  too  wise  a  man  to  be  deluded  inta 
such  vagaries. 

Rapid  had  been  Burr's  ascent  toward  the 
summit  of  political  achievement,  thrice 


Aaron  Burr  55 

rapid  was  his  decline.  The  storm-clouds 
that  for  three  years  had  been  gathering 
about  his  head  burst  with  a  sudden  fury. 
If  Burr  had  been  content  to  bide  his  time, 
he  would  not  have  ventured  into  the  strug 
gle  for  governor  but  would  have  allowed  the 
opposition  to  subside.  Even  after  his  de 
feat  in  New  York,  had  he  retired  to  his  law 
practice,  he  would  in  the  course  of  time  have 
been  restored  to  public  favor.  But  his 
spirit  was  restless.  He  was  not  the  man  to 
submit  to  defeat  without  a  struggle.  He 
realized  that  of  the  elements  that  con 
tributed  to  his  overthrow,  none  was  less 
excusable  and  more  purely  personal  than 
the  relentless  antagonism  of  Hamilton  that 
had  pursued  him  for  ten  years  like  a  death 
winging  shadow.  He  had  paid  little  atten 
tion  to  this,  but  six  weeks  after  the  election 
proofs  were  placed  in  his  hands  of  unwar 
ranted  personal  attacks  upon  his  char 
acter.  He  wrote  to  Hamilton  asking  for 
explanations.  The  correspondence  that  en 
sued  culminated  in  the  duel  that  deprived 
Hamilton  of  his  life  and  Burr  of  his  honor. 
The  details  of  this  lamentable  encounter 
do  not  concern  us  here.  Both  principals 
made  careful  preparation  and  wrote  their 
wills.  Hamilton  spent  the  night  before  the  / 
duel  in  restless  writing;  Burr  slept.  Hamil 
ton  crossed  the  Hudson  determined  to  throw 
away  his  first  fire;  Burr  mounted  the  nar 
row  ledge  under  the  Heights  of  Weehawken, 


H; 

\    th 
\  by 


56      Five  American  Politicians 

fully  determined  not  to  waste  one  bullet. 
That  bullet  entered  Hamilton's  breast,  and 
it  had  been  well  for  Burr  if  the  ball  that 
broke  the  twig  far  above  his  head  had 
found  lodgment  in  his  heart.  Hamilton 
died  the  following  day,  after  heartrending 
farewells  to  his  wife  and  seven  children; 
Burr  hid  in  his  mansion  on  Richmond  Hill. 
Hamilton  was  borne  to  his  grave  mourned 
by  the  nation;  Burr  fled  the  city  of  his 
triumphs,  a  fugitive  from  justice.  The  peo 
ple  gathered  at  every  meeting  place  to  eulo 
gize  the  character  of  Hamilton;  two  grand 
juries  met  to  indict  Burr  of  murder.  Ham 
ilton  was  canonized  a  political  saint;  Burr 
was  condemned  as  a  political  satan:^  Every 
simple  trait  of  Hamilton  was  glorified  into 
a  virtue,  and  every  virtue  sanctified  into 
divinity;  every  foible  of  Burr  was  trans 
muted  into  a  vice,  and  every  folly  developed 
into  fiendish  wickedness.  The  frailties  of 
Hamilton  were  enwrapped  in  his  shroud; 

e  shining  qualities  of  Burr  were  tarnished 
y  slander  and  bigotry^ 

Strange  and  inexplicable  as  was  "this  uni 
versal  outburst  of  laudation  and  condemna 
tion,  far  more  mysterious  is  the  fact  that 
the  hot  judgment  of  those  days  has  not  been 
cooled  by  one  hundred  years  of  history ;  and 
that  the  sentiments  of  the  Federal  parsons 
who  preached  in  every  hamlet  their  eulogistic' 
panegyrics  of  Hamilton  have  remained  the 
prevalent  sentiment  of  to-day.  Hamilton 


Aaron  Burr  57 

is  still  the  hero,  Burr  the  villain  of  that  la 
mentable  tragedy. 

Not  that  society  condemned  the  duel.  It 
was  one  of  the  remnants  of  the  gentleman's 
day  that  clung  to  the  customs  of  the  hour, 
as  did  small-clothes  and  wigs.  Few  notable 
men  of  the  time  had  escaped  encounters  and 
still  fewer  had  eluded  challenges.  Even  at 
a  later  day  duels  were  fought  by  Randolph, 
Clay,  Benton,  Jackson,  and  Decatur.  Wai- 
pole,  Wellington,  Peel,  Grattan,  Sheridan, 
Jeffry,  D'Israeli,  all  met  upon  the  "field 
of  honor."  \The  vituperation  of  the  Clinton- 
ians  and  their  foul  mouthpiece,  Cheetham; 
the  anger  of  the  Federalists  and  the  personal 
bitterness  of  Jefferson  united  in  overpower 
ing  this  brilliant  daring  and  alas,  conscience 
less  man.  vFor  if  ever  there  was  cause  for 
a  political  duel,  Burr,  indeed,  was  justified 
in  the  challenge.  That  he  was  justified  in 
the  cold-blooded  execution  of  the  design, 
who  shall  say? 

And  what  of  his  immediate  following? 
Was  Tammany  accessory  before  the  fact? 
Two  sachems,  Mathew  L.  Davis  and  William 
P.  Van  Ness,  were  with  Burr  at  Weehawken, 
one  of  them  as  his  second.  Another  sachem, 
John  Swartout,  was  at  Burr's  house  waiting 
his  return.  Other  members  were  disposed 
at  different  points  to  learn  the  news.  Tam 
many  secretly  rejoiced  at  the  fall  of  their 
unrelenting  foe.  The  night  of  Hamilton's 
death,  Martling's  Long  Room  was  the  scene 


58      Five  American  Politicians 

of  a  disgraceful  revel,  and  toasts  were  drunk 
to  the  chieftain  who  had  slain  their  bitter 
est  enemy.  But  on  the  following  morning, 
Tammany  prudently  bowed  to  public  opin 
ion  and  put  on  a  hypocritical  coat  of  mourn 
ing.  The  following  item  appeared  in  the 
New  York  papers : 

"  Brothers,  your  attendance  is  earnestly 
requested  at  an  extra  meeting  of  the  tribes 
in  the  Great  Wigwam,  precisely  at  the 
setting  of  the  sun  this  evening,  to  make 
arrangements  for  joining  our  fellow-citizens 
and  soldiers  in  a  procession,  in  order  to 
pay  the  last  tribute  of  national  respect  due 
to  the  manes  of  our  departed  fellow-citizen, 
General  Alexander  Hamilton.  By  order 
of  the  Grand  Sachem. 

" JAMES  B.  BRISST,  Secy. 

"Season  of  Fruits,  in  the  year  of  discovery 
Three  Hundred  and  Twelve,  and  of  the 
Institution  the  Fifteenth." 

The  way  the  news  of  the  fatal  duel  was 
received  by  the  public  was  a  complete  sur 
prise  to  Burr.  I  select  two  newspaper  items 
of  that  date  to  show  the  prevailing  feeling 
in  both  parties.  The  "Columbia  Sentinel 
and  Massachusetts  Federalist,"  heavily  in 
mourning,  said:  "Yesterday,  before  and 
after  General  Hamilton's  death,  Colonel 
Burr  was  seen  riding  about  the  streets,  his 
servants  behind,  with  as  much  apparent 
cheerfulness  and  unconcern  as  if  nothing 


Aaron  Burr  59 


had  happened,  or  as  if  he  had  performed  a 
meritorious  action  instead  of  having  com 
mitted  murder.''  "The  Independent  Chron 
icle"  a  Republican  paper  of  Boston,  showed 
no  heavy  lines  of  mourning  and  did  not  con 
tain  a  notice  of  the  duel  until  July  23d, 
twelve  days  after  the  event  occurred, 
when  it  announced :  "  When  the  partial  fer 
vor  of  the  moment  has  subsided  we  shall  en 
deavor  to  present  to  the  public  such  a  brief 
commentary  upon  the  life  and  political 
character  of  General  Hamilton  as  may  be 
proper  for  a  philanthropist  to  write  and  a 
Republican  to  peruse."  Wild  rumors  were 
afloat  that  Burr  had  decided  to  kill  five 
other  of  his  opponents. 

When  he  learned  that  the  grand  juries  of 
New  Jersey  and  New  York  were  about  to 
indict  him,  he  fled  to  Philadelphia  where 
he  had  an  affair  of  the  heart.  Never  for 
a  moment  did  he  lose  his  self-composure, 
never  did  he  think  of  explaining  his  ac 
\  To  his  own  self  was  he  justified  in  killing 
<  his  rival,  and  to  Aaron  Burr,  Aaron  Burr 
!  was  all-sufficient.  To  his  daughter,  now 
jEappHy  married  and  living  in  South  Caro 
lina,  he  writes  from  Philadelphia:  "If  any 
male  friend  of  yours  should  be  dying  of 
ennui,  recommend  him  to  engage  in  a 
courtship  and  a  duel  at  the  same  time." 
He  sought  his  way  down  the  coast  to  South 
Carolina,  where  he  spent  ten  blissful  days 
with  his  Theodosia.  In  the  South  his 


60      Five  American  Politicians 

Journey  was  a  triumphal  progress.  Feder 
alism  had  not  penetrated  the  warmer  states. 
At  Washington  he  was  received  with  marked 
attentions.  In  response  to  a  toast,  said  one 
senator:  "The  first  duel  I  ever  read  of  was 
that  of  David  killing  Goliath.  Our  little 
David  of  the  Republican  party  has  killed 
the  Goliath  of  Federalism,  and  for  this  I 
am  willing  to  reward  him." 

Burr  had  yet  to  preside  over  one  session 
of  the  Senate.  So  dignified  and  noble  was 
his  demeanor,  so  carefully  did  he  sustain 
himself,  that  even  the  breath  of  suspicion 
could  find  no  fault.  Toward  the  end  of  the 
session  he  spoke  his  farewell  to  his  colleagues 
Whatever  emotions  may  have  been  burning 
within  his  soul,  his  complete  composure  con 
cealed  them.  But  so  fervent  and  impres 
sive  was  his  language,  and  so  lofty  his  senti 
ments,  that  his  auditors  were  entranced, 
and  many  a  staid  senator  found  tears  steal 
ing  into  his  eyes.  This  was  his  power  over 
the  intellect  and  the  emotions. 

But  New  England  and  New  York  would 
neither  forgive  nor  forget.  The  one  was  too 
Puritanic,  the  other  too  partisan.  Burr  saw 
that  he  must  allow  the  fever  to  subside  ere  he 
could  return  to  his  home.  He  writes:  "In 
New  York  I  am  to  be  disfranchised,  in  New 
Jersey  hanged.  Having  substantial  objec 
tions  to  both,  I  shall  not  for  the  present  hazard 
either,  but  shall  seek  another  country." 

Let  us  rapidly  follow  this  unfortunate 


Aaron  Burr  61 

man  through  the  melancholy  sequel  of  his 
life.  His  political  career  ends  here.  Burr's 
judgment  fled  with  the  life  of  Hamilton. 
He  now  becomes  an  adventurer.  He  seeks  j 
the  throne  of  Mexico.  Reckless  talking  and 
foolish  cipher  messages  involve  him  in  a  trial 
for  treason.  Jefferson  pursues  him  even 
after  two  juries  have  acquitted  him  and  the 
populace  of  the  Mississippi  Valley  have  re 
ceived  him  with  loud  acclaim.  If  Jefferson 
cannot  reach  his  foe  by  legal  process,  he  will 
have  him  by  military  force.  Through  the 
dismal  swamps  and  uninhabited  forests  of 
the  southern  states  he  is  dragged,  a  prisoner 
of  war  in  time  of  peace,  to  Richmond,  there 
to  be  tried  for  high  treason.  His  designs  on 
Mexico,  then  a  Spanish  province,  are  inter 
preted  as  idle  attempts  to  split  the  union, 
and  unite  Louisiana  with  Mexico  to  form 
one  great  nation.  The  trial  is  memorable  in 
the  annals  of  our  public  law.  The  most  bril 
liant  talent  at  the  bar  contends  before  the 
greatest  judge  of  our  history  for  the  inno 
cence  of  the  greatest  politician  of  his  day. 
What  a  scene,  John  Marshall  sitting  on  the 
bench  to  try  Aaron  Burr  for  treason  against 
the  country  whos^  favors  had  placed  him  all 
but  on  the  pinnacle  of  political  glory!  So 
ciety,  ever  won  by  his  captivating  manner 
and  brilliant  conversation,  flocked  to  his 
prison  home  to  lighten  his  hours.  His  Theo- 
dosia  was  at  his  side  to  minister  to  his  com 
forts.  He  conducted  his  own  defense.  In 


62      Five  American  Politicians 

a  court  of  law  he  was  at  home.  The  state's 
witnesses  could  not  testify  to  an  overt  act. 
The  pompous,  hypocritical  and  arrogant 
General  Wilkinson,  whose  testimony  was  to 
send  Burr  to  the  gallows,  could  prove  noth 
ing  except  his  own  implication  in  the  designs 
upon  Mexico.  There  was  an  acquittal. 

There  was  one  attempt  to  restore  him  to 
power.  In  1810  the  "Burrites,"  as  the 
Tammany  men  were  now  called,  were  ap 
proached  by  the  Clintonians  and  asked  their 
terms  of  peace  and  union.  The  first  condi 
tion  was  that  Colonel  Burr  should  be  recog 
nized  by  the  union  party  as  a  Republican 
and  allowed  to  return  to  favor.  The  Clin 
tonians  promised,  and  it  appeared  for  a  time 
as  though  Burr  might  be  restored  to  power. 
A  dinner  was  given  at  Dyde's  Tavern  to  con 
summate  the  union.  A  toast  in  honor  of 
Aaron  Burr  was  drunk  in  the  following 
words:  "Aaron  Burr,  late  Vice-President 
of  the  United  States,  dignified  in  the  chair, 
prompt  in  the  cabinet,  gallant  in  the  field. 
May  his  country  duly  appreciate  his  talents 
and  his  services."  Six  cheers  were  moved 
for  Burr,  followed  by  nine  cheers  for  Clinton. 
A  participant  in  this  celebration  said:  "By 
this  time  we  felt  prepared  to  drink  forgive 
ness  to  everything  human,  whether  savage, 
sage  or  Turk."  But  this  dinner  and  its  lib 
eral  flow  of  wine  produced  no  peace.  A 
rat  mass  meeting  of  Clintonians  was  called, 
was  attended  by  thousands  of  turbulent 


Aaron  Burr  63 


and  angry  men,  who  resolved  that  union  was 
inconsistent,   and   "that  Aaron  Burr  does 
not  and  ought  not  to  possess  the  confidencce 
of  the  Republican  party."     This  was  the « 
final  attempt  of  the   "Martling  Men"   to' 
bring  their  chieftain  back  to  power.     But 
they  never  ceased  to  harass  Clinton,  whom 
they  always  believed  the  instigator  of  the 
Anti-Burr  faction  in  the  Republican  party. 

After  the  trial,  Burr,  disguised  and  under 
an  assumed  name,  fled  to  Europe.  At  the 
courts  of  the  old  world  he  sought  aid  in  his 
scheme  to  conquer  Mexico.  Four  years  he 
sojourned  on  the  continent.  At  every  cap 
ital  he  was  received  with  delight.  His  re 
splendent  talents  were  meant  to  shine  in 
court,  and  his  companionship  was  sought  by 
the  greatest  scholars  of  Europe.  Jeremy 
Bentham  became  his  intimate  friend. 

In  England  a  project  was  put  in  motion  to 
provide  a  seat  for  Burr  in  the  House  of  Com 
mons.  But  the  antagonism  of  Jefferson 
pursued  him  across  the  wide  ocean,  and  in 
stead  of  a  seat  in  the  Commons,  the  English 
government  politely  informed  him  that  his 
absence  from  England  would  be  appreciated. 
Wherever  he  encountered  Americans  there 
he  was  snubbed.  Europe  was  now  in  the 
throes  of  the  Napoleonic  wars,  and  it  was 
very  difficult  to  secure  passports.  But  no  ; 
minister  or  consul  of  his  native  land  would 
offer  him  friendly  service.  Jefferson's  and 
Madison's  appointees  took  care  to  ignore  the 


64      Five  American  Politicians 

one  man  whose  political  manipulations  had 
placed  their  president  in  power. 

England,  Sweden,  Holland,  Germany  and 
France  were  visited  by  the  wandering  exile. 
For  his  brilliant  mind,  winning  manners  and 
compelling  personality  there  was  universal 
admiration  and  wonderment.  But  for  his 
scheme  of  empire  there  was  not  one  word  of 
encouragement.  Four  years  he  continued 
his  futile  search,  t  His  reckless  extravagance 
and  profligacy  in  money-  matters  reduced 
jiim  many  times  to  penury,  j  In  London  his 
cash  dwindled  to  two  half-pence,  which,  he 
says,  are  better  than  one  pence,  "for  you 
can  hear  them  jingle."  Often  he  is  com 
pelled  to  seek  the  meanest  lodgings,  and  to 
go  hungry.  But  his  resources  were  usually 
equal  to  his  extravagances.  He  always 
found  means  to  borrow  money  from  ad 
miring  friends.  I  cannot  find  that  he  re 
turned  very  many  of  these  friendly  loans. 
Withal,  in  the  midst  of  these  cares,  pursued 
by  his  government,  avoided  by  his  country 
men,  threatened  by  want,  he  found  time  for 
the  little  love  intrigues  of  which  he  grew  so 
fond  in  later  life.  In  Paris  and  Weimar, 
especially,  were  his  captivating  manners  the 
center  of  feminine  adoration,  an  adoration 
to  which  he  joyously  responded. 

The  last  year  of  his  sojourn  in  Europe  was 
one  continued  effort  to  secure  passage  to 
America.  In  Paris  he  was  virtually  a  pris 
oner  of  state.  Finally  he  succeeded  in  find- 


Aaron  Burr  65 

ing  a  ship  and  raising  the  passage  money. 
But  what  was  his  consternation  when  the  ves 
sel  was  taken  by  a  British  privateer  and  towed 
to  Yarmouth  as  a  prize.  Without  funds, 
he  hastened  to  London.  Only  Aaron  Burr 
could  have  survived  the  struggle  with  mis 
fortune  that  now  ensued.  Every  scheme 
and  device  for  raising  money  failed.  His 
fair  friends  were  ever  active  in  his  behalf, 
but  their  influence  could  at  most  only  supply 
his  daily  wants.  After  most  humiliating 
attempts  he  secured  passage  and  started  for 
the  land  whence  he  had  fled  a  fugitive,  and 
to  which  he  returned  an  exile. 

Throughout  these  years  he  never  lost  his 
marvelous  power  of  self-reliance.  Not  one 
moment  did  his  purpose  waver.  His  diary 
and  numerous  letters  reveal  a  cheerful,  en 
ergetic  and  busy  personality.  There  is  no 
resentment  manifested  toward  his  enemies. 
Dignified  and  indifferent  he  is,  alike  to  the 
calumnies  of  his  countrymen  and  the  priva 
tions  of  poverty.  Occasionally  he  thinks 
of  his  native  land.  Once  he  writes:  "Alas, 
the  country  which  I  am  so  anxious  to  revisit 
will  perhaps  reject  me  with  horror." 

His  country  did  not  expel  him.  The  in 
dictments  that  hung  over  his  name  were 
nolled  soon  after  his  arrival,  and  he  was  al 
lowed  to  remain  in  New  York,  to  which  city 
he  had  returned  in  disguise,  and  where  he 
remained  in  hiding  until  assured  that  all  le 
gal  prosecutions  would  be  abandoned.  Then 


66      Five  American  Politicians 

he  determined  to  begin  life  anew,  at  the  age 
of  56.  A  little  tin  sign  bearing  the  legend, 
"Aaron  Burr,  Attorney  and  Counsellor-at- 
Law,"  was  nailed  over  a  door  on  Nassau 
street,  and  the  following  card  was  published 
in  the  papers:  "Aaron  Burr  has  returned 
to  the  city  and  has  resumed  the  practice  of 
law."  His  old  popularity  seemed  at  once  to 
return.  The  day  that  his  presence  was 
made  known,  he  received  over  five  hundred 
gentlemen  callers.  Before  two  weeks  passed 
he  had  received  over  two  thousand  dollars  in 
retainers,  a  large  sum  for  those  days. 

But  fate  had  still  in  reserve  her  deadliest 
weapons.  One  month  after  his  arrival,  The- 
odosia  writes  of  the  death  of  her  only  child, 
a  boy  of  eleven  years,  whose  life  was  the  ris 
ing  star  of  his  grandparent's  hope.  The 
blow  was  terrible.  But  Burr  repressed  his 
emotion,  in  his  effort  to  console  the  mother. 
But  Theodosia  could  not  be  consoled.  She 
grew  gradually  weaker,  and  longed  to  be 
with  her  father.  Burr  sent  a  physician 
to  Charleston,  to  accompany  her  to  New 
York.  The  party  embarked  in  a  small 
schooner,  "  The  Patriot."  Six  days  at  most 
should  have  sufficed  for  the  passage.  Six 
days  passed,  and  no  tidings;  two  weeks 
passed,  and  no  news.  The  "Patriot"  was 
never  heard  from  again.  Tales  of  her  cap 
ture  by  pirates,  of  the  mutiny  of  her  crew, 
of  her  foundering  in  a  gale,  were  brought  to 
the  father's  ears.  The  agonizing  suspense 


Aaron  Burr  67 

of  these  days  of  waiting  wrung  from  Burr's 
heart  the  only  tears  he  was  ever  known  to 
shed.  .This  was  his  supreme  grief.  He 
said:  ';/"When  I  realized  the  truth  of  her 
death,  the  world  became^a  blank  to  me,  and 
life  then  lost  its  value. '^  And  to  his  son-in- 
law  he  wrote  that  he7  was  now  "severed 
from  the  human  race." 

It  was  Buix!s-4ih]losp^hy  to  "accept  the 
inevitable  without  repining."  He  resolved 
in  youth  always  to  be  cheerful.  While  he 
put  aside  all  external  things  that  suggested 
Theodosia,  and  bore  with  his  accustomed 
grace  and  cheerfulness  this  prof oundest  afflic 
tion,  the  death  of  his  daughter  robbed  him 
of  his  incentive  to  restore  himself  to  power 
and  to  regain  a  fortune.  With  the  life  of 
Theodosia,  perished  the  father's  ambition. 

The  twenty-four  years  that  remained  for 
him  to  live  were  passed  in  obscurity.  His 
law  practice  was  sufficient  to  keep  him  in 
comfort,  but  he  was  not  retained  for  great 
cases.  Prejudice  and  slander  passed  into 
tradition,  and  when  he  was  an  old  man  of 
seventy-five  years,  the  children  and  grand 
children  of  his  rivals  peered  at  him  in  fear  out 
of  the  corners  of  their  eyes,  and  whispered  of 
the  terrible  deeds  the  little,  "bent,  wrinkled  old 
man  had  committed  in  the  days  of  his  youth. 
And  the  gossips  of  the  town  were  kept  busy 
exaggerating  his  love  intrigues.  He  never 
was  free  from  debt.  His  recklessness  with 
money  increased  with  age.  One  by  one  the 


68      Five  American  Politicians 

loyal  companions  of  his  youth  passed  away, 
until  he  was  left  quite  alone.  But  the  won 
derful  fire  of  his  eye  never  dimmed^  and  the 
compelling  charm  of  his  conversation  never 
abated,  and  the  stately  poise  and  self-posses 
sion  of  his  demeanor  never  vanished,  until 
the  only  enemy  that  could  conquer  Aaron 
Burr  triumphed.  \/His  last  feeble  hours 
were  passed  in  th£  bare  of  a  lady  whose  fa 
ther  he  had  befriended  in  the  days  of  his 
power.  The  silent  angel  never  carried  into 
the  bosom  of  immortality  a  more  indom 
itable  soul,  and  never  ended  a  more  eventful 
and  sad  career.  For  who  can  reflect  upon 
the  fate  of  Aaron  Burr  without  a  feeling  of 
fear,  of  awe,  and  of  pity? 

Late  in  life  Burr  confessed :  "  Had  I  read 
Sterne  more  than  Voltaire,  I  might  have 
thought  the  world  large  enough  for  Hamil 
ton  and  myself."  How  profoundly  would 
this  training  in  morals  have  affected  the  his 
tory  of  American  politics ! 


DE  WITT  CLINTON 

FATHER  OF  THE  SPOILS  SYSTEM 


DE  WITT  CLINTON 

FATHER  OF  THE  SPOILS  SYSTEM 


THE  year  after  the  Declaration  of  Inde 
pendence  had  been  signed  and  sent  on 
its  quickening  journey  through  the  col 
onies,  New  York  adopted  its  first  constitu 
tion,  a  document  prepared  b}^  John  Jay,  with 
the  approval  of  Alexander  Hamilton,  Richard 
Morris,  Robert  Livingstone,  John  Lansing, 
Peter  Vandervoort,  Phillip  VanCortland,  and 
a  host  of  other  notable  men,  in  convention 
assembled.  The  Federal  and  Democratic 
elements  were  unnaturally  blended  in  two 
of  its  provisions.  One  anomaly  directed 
that  all  laws  be  approved  by  a  Council  of 
Revision  composed  of  the  Governor,  the  Chan 
cellor,  and  the  judges  of  the  Supreme  Court. 
The  second  anomaly  was  a  monstrosity  in 
the  shape  of  a  Council  of  Appointment.  The 
state  was  divided  into  four  senatorial  dis 
tricts — southern,  middle,  eastern,  and  west 
ern.  Every  year  the  assembly  nominated 
one  senator  from  each  district  to  serve  with 
the  Governor  as  a  member  of  this  Council. 
The  words  of  the  constitution  seemed  to  give 
the  appointing  power  to  the  Governor,  for 
he  was  required,  with  the  advice  and  con 
sent  of  the  council,  to  appoint  all  officers. 


72      Five  American  Politicians 

Strangely,  this  clause  caused  no  trouble 
until  its  author,  the  erudite  John  Jay,  was 
elected  governor.  His  Council  was  not  in 
political  accord  with  him.  The  Council 
claimed  the  appointing  power,  saying  the 
governor  has  a  vote  only  when  there  was  a 
tie.  Subsequently  a  convention  was  called 
to  fix  an  interpretation  upon  this  clause,  and 
the  verdict  was  against  the  sole  power  of 
the  Governor.  We  would  to-day  regard 
with  alarm  the  suggestion  that  a  convention 
and  not  a  supreme  court  should  determine 
the  import  of  a  state  constitution. 

This  Council  was  then  all  powerful:  the 
Governor  was  merely  a  chairman.  It  se 
lected  all  civil  and  military  officers  of  the 
state,  the  heads  of  departments,  except  the 
state  treasurer,  the  Chancellor,  the  judges 
of  the  supreme  and  inferior  courts,  all  jus 
tices  of  the  peace,  and  even  the  auctioneers. 
Its  arm  reached  into  every  county,  every 
township;  its  hands  rested  upon  every 
branch  of  the  civil  and  military  service. 
Not  in  the  annals  of  our  public  law  is  there 
found  another  example  of  such  centraliza 
tion  of  the  appointing  power. 

Surely  the  authors  of  this  provision  did 
not  foresee  the  course  that  American  poli 
tics  would  take,  and  that  within  this  inno 
cent  looking  clause  lurked  the  spirit  of 
partisanship  that  guided  the  politicians  of 
the  Empire  State  into  the  wilderness  of 
faction  and  party  strife  for  more  than  fifty 


De  Witt  Clinton 73 

years,  and  exerted  a  corrupting  influence 
over  national  politics  that  has  even  after  a 
century  of  struggle  been  scarcely  abated. 

This  council  of  appointment  was  the  op- 
,paLty,nity  of  the  politician.  That  it  was  not 
designed  as  such  is  evidenced  by  the" char 
acter  of  the  men  who  framed  its  structure, 
and  by  the  fact  that  for  twenty-five  years 
the  course  of  appointments  seems  to  have 
run  smoothly  enough.  It  is  true  that  those 
were  years  pregnant  with  great  events,  with 
the  gaining  of  national  independence,  the 
choosing  of  a  form  of  government,  the  estab 
lishing  of  a  nation;  great  events  that  buried 
deep  the  petty  animosities  of  pygmy  poli 
ticians  and  faction  venders,  great  events 
that  held  aloft  before  the  people  great  ideals 
of  office,  and  forbade  that  public  trusts 
should  be  traduced  into  private  lusts. 

Thus  it  transpired  that  not  until  after  the 
great  political  revolution  that  opened  the 
new  century  did  a  man  appear  whose  train 
ing  taught  him  the  value  of  office  as  a  means 
of  political  power,  whose  ambition  willingly 
grasped  the  needs  of  the  state  as  a  means 
of  elevating  himself  into  high  place,  and 
whose  genius  could  seize  this  opportunity 
and  wield  it  to  his  own  glory. 

Good  old  George  Clinton  was  for  eighteen 
years  governor  of  "New  York.  A  man  was 
he  of  courage  and  of  character.  Nature  had 
housed,  within  a  great  body  of  marvelous 
vitality,  a  great  soul  of  wondrous  depth  and 


74      Five  American  Politicians 

a  great  mind  of  overcoming  power.  For 
George  Clinton  to  will,  was  for  him  to  do.  He 
was  as  ardent  in  the  execution  of  his  purpose 
as  he  was  tenacious  of  his  convictions.  Once 
his  mind  was  fixed,  it  could  be  bent  neither 
by  logic  nor  by  circumstances.  He  wasjby__ 
nature  an  Anti-Federalist,  and  came  near 
wrecking  the  new  federal  constitution  upon 
the  rocks  of  his  Irish  perversity.  But  when 
adopted  by  the  people,  the  constitution  was  to 
him  his  creed  of  patriotism,  and  he  was  as  en 
ergetic  in  its  defense  as  he  had  been  active  in 
his  opposition.  This  sturdy  character  had 
wrested  his  power  from  the  reigning  families 
by  sheer  force  of  intellect  and  will.  He  was 
the  friend  of  the  people  and  the  ally  of  the 
weak.  His  ideals  of  public  office  were  lofty, 
and  th&  tricks  of  the  politician  found  little 
favor  in  his  sight.  He  never  throughout  his 
long  career  as  an  executive  dismissed  one  man 
from  office  without  a  just  cause. 

And  quiet,  gentle  John  Jay,  who  was  the 
first  Federalist  governor  of  New  York,  a 
scholar,  diplomat,  jurist,  could  no  more 
juggle  with  the  wiles  of  political  intrigue 
than  could  a  cooing  dove  assume  the  role 
of  a  plundering  hawk.  TJnder  these  two 
governors  the  council  did  Its  work  fairly 
well.  Its  appointments  were  not  always 
above  criticism,  but  it  was  not  flagrantly 
used  for  partisan  purposes  until  the  advent 
of  a  sharp,  political  manipulator,  the  Me- 
phistopheles  of  the  young  democracy. 


De  Witt  Clinton 75 

While  Aaron  Burr  was  perfecting  his  ma 
chine  in  New  York  city,  DeWitt  Clinton 
was  completing  his  course  at  Columbia 
College,  and  was  serving  his  political 
apprenticeship  as  secretary  of  his  renowned 
uncle,  George  Clinton.  At  college  young 
Clinton  won  praise  as  a  scholar,  his  instruc 
tors  publicly  announcing  their  belief  that 
he  would  win  renown  in  the  greater  endea 
vors  of  life.  The  stirring  events  of  the  Rev 
olution  were  woven  into  boyhood  romance 
for  him,  and  the  subsequent  struggle  for 
national  existence  formed  the  livid  back 
ground  of  his  early  manhood.  His  very  col 
lege  experience  seemed  to  heighten  the  color 
of  revolutionary  changes,  for  King's  College 
was  transformed  into  Columbia  College. 
The  loyalist  president  of  King's  College  had 
been  ignominiously  driven  from  his  home, 
fleeing  through  a  back  window  from  the 
mob  that  clamored  at  his  front  door,  and 
after  the  evacuating  of  New  York  by  the 
British,  a  new  president  gathered  about  him 
a  new  faculty,  m±J)j^WittJ^ 
first  -  jziatcioularte-  -of ^  ^tJiajieij^nH^plumbia. 

In  1788  he  was  admitted  to  the  bar,  and 
the  same  year  reported  the  debates  of  the 
state  convention  called  to  consider  the 
adoption  of  the  United  States  constitution, 
a  magnificent  training  for  a  young  lawyer 
destined  to  become  the  leading  politician  of 
his  day. 

DeWitt  was  not  merely  "the  nephew  of 


76      Five  American  Politicians 

his  uncle,"  he  was  much  more.  So  natur 
ally  did  he  take  to  politics,  so  skilfully  did 
he  manage,  that  his  uncle  soon  entrusted  to 
him  the  details  of  matters  purely  political. 
He  was^ej2iejiJto^;t]ae~J^ 
and  four'  years  later  became  a  member  of 
the  Council  of  Appointment. 

Now  begins  the  reign  of  proscription. 
Young  Clinton  is  the  first  politician  to  use 
the  concentrated  power  of  the  Council  for 
purely  political  purposes.  He  reorganized 
the  state  senate  and  managed  the  election 
of  the  members  of  the  Council,  and  made 
himself  the  dictator  of  all  its  actions.  The 
head  of  every  Anti-Clintonian  officeholder 
fell  in  that  campaign  for  power.  Sheriffs, 
surrogates,  county  clerks  and  recorders, 
mayors  and  judges,  secretary  of  state  and 
controller,  justices  by  the  score  and  auc 
tioneers  by  the  hundreds  were  ruthlessly 
swept  from  office  and  the  friends  of  DeWitt 
Clinton  installed. 

^.t  this  moment  the  Clintons  and  Living 
stones  were  acting  in  accord  and  divided  the 
spoils.  The  larger  state  offices  went  to 
the  Livingstones.  Chancellor  Livingstone, 
through  Governor  Clinton's  influence,  was  ap 
pointed  to  a  foreign  embassy;  Edward  Liv 
ingstone  became  mayor  of  New  York,  the 
fattest  job  in  the  state.  Dr.  Tillotson,  a 
brother-in-law  of  Chancellor  Livingstone, 
was  made  secretary  of  state;  Morgan  Lewis, 
who  had  married  a  fair  Li  vingstonian,  became 


De  Witt  Clinton  77 

chief  justice  of  the  Supreme  Court;  General 
Armstrong,  who  also  had  married  into  the 
Livingstone  family,  was  elected  United  States 
Senator  by  the  legislature;  Brockholst  Liv 
ingstone  was  made  a  judge  of  the  Supreme 
Court,  as  was  also  Smith  Thompson,  whose 
wife  was  a  Livingstone.  Happy  was  the 
man  who  had  married  a  Livingstone. 

In  New  Yoflkiaity  yMttomfti^weE^  placed 
^iauaSiee*  Thus  the  subordinate  officers  were 
all  of  DeWitt's  choosing.  Not  a  single 
.place,  however  small,  was  alloted  to  Burr 
and  his  Tammany.  The  bitter  struggle  of 
Clinton's  life  was  with  the  Burrites.  He 
claimed  he  was  the  Democratic  party. 
They  laid  title  to  the  same  claim.  A  third 
politician,  VanBuren,  later  stepped  between 
the  warring  factions  and  organized  the  real 
Democratic  party  from  fragments  of  both. 
In  the  counties,  too,  Clintonians  secured  the 
justices  and  petty  township  offices. 

At  the  end  of  a  few  short  weeks,  this  bright 
young  politician  had  revolutionized  the  po 
litical  theory  of  officeholding,  and  instead  of 
sanctifying  public  office  as  a  public  trust, 
he  degraded  it  into  party  spoils;  for  from 
that  time  forward  every  justice  of  the  peace 
became  an  electioneering  officer,  every 
county  official  a  party  slave,  every  auc 
tioneer  a  ward  heeler,  and  even  the  high 
officers  of  the  state  were  underlings  in  this 
rigorous  system  of  party  discipline.  From 
that  day  forth  politics  in  New  York 


78      Five  American  Politicians 

were  simply  a  struggle  to  control  the  Council 
of  Appointment.  Faction  after  faction  fell 
Victim  to  the  vicissitudes  of  majorities  and 
minorities,  leader  succeeded  leader  in  the 
rotation  of  office. 

JDeWitt  Clinton  mounted  into  national 
prominence  upon  the  pedestal  of  power  he 
erected  from  the  spoils  of  office.  In  1801 
he  became  United  States  senator,  and  at  the 
age  of  thirty-two  found  himself  the  associate 
of  the  brilliant  and  erudite  Gouverneur 
Morris.  The  sterling  qualities  of  the  youth 
ful  statesman  were  not  dimmed  by  compari 
son  with  his  experienced  colleague. 

After  two  years  of  service  Clinton  made 
the  supreme  political  mistake  of  his  life. 
He  exchanged  a  seat  in  the  national  senate 
for  the  mayoralty  of  New  York.  By  this 
step  he  plunged  from  the  heights  of  national 
politics  into  the  swirling  depths  of  the  petti 
est  and  most  degrading  factional  strife  re 
corded  in  the  annals  of  partisan  history. 
For  from  1800  until  the  slavery  issue  cast  its 
deepening  shadow  over  the  land,  political  con 
tests  in  New  York  were  merely  personal  feuds 
between  factions  and  families — feuds  fought 
with  a  rancor  and  bitterness,  with  a  disre 
gard  for  truth  and  honor  that  make  our 
modern  political  contests  appear  virtuous 
and  present  day  bosses  seem  saintly.  There 
was,  of  course,  no  such  lavish  outpouring 
of  money,  for  candidates  were  poorer.  But 
Clinton  had  taught  men  to  view  offices  as 


De  Witt  Clinton 79 

rewards,  and  the  disgraceful  wrangling  over 
positions  took  the  place  of  the  modern 
struggle  for  campaign  money. 

Into  this  maelstrom  of  local  politics  Clin 
ton  allowed  himself  to  be  drawn.  He  him 
self  had  been  the  most  potent  force  in 
starting  in  motion  this  seething  torrent  of 
partisan  bitterness,  and  now  he  willingly 
dropped  back  again  into  the  irresistible  cur 
rent,  which  hastened  him  headlong  into  the 
turmoils  of  victory  and  defeat.  Through 
the  vicissitudes  of  political 'fortune  we  will 
follow  this  singular  man;  we  will  see  how 
his  transformation  from  politician  into 
statesman  saved  him  from  death  by  the 
very  weapons  his  political  genius  had  forged. 

The  position  of  mayor  of  New  York  was 
a  place  of  power.  The  mayor  had  the  dis 
bursement  of  considerable  patronage.  He 
was  the  president  of  the  common  council, 
the  chief  judge  of  the  common  pleas  court 
and  of  the  criminal  court,  actual  head  of  the 
police  and  fire  departments,  and  chairman 
of  the  board  of  health.  Many  of  the  ancient 
privileges  and  fees  granted  by  royal  charter 
were  still  in  force,  and  swelled  the  annual 
income  of  the  position  to  $12,000. 

The  appointment,  made  by  the  Council  of 
Appointment,  was  for  one  year.  Clinton  held 
the  position  until  1315,  excepting  in  brief 
intervals  when  the  Lewisites  were  in  control. 

The  Federal  party  was  at  this  time  little 
more  than  a  band  that  clung  to  life  with  a 


8o      Five  American  Politicians 

courage  and  tenacity  that  must  elicit  admi 
ration.  The  Democratic  or  Republican 
party  was  divided  into  three  factions,  the 
Lewisites,  led  by  Governor  Lewis,  a  violent 
partisan,  who  later  chose  the  suave  Daniel 
D.  Tompkins  for  their  leader;  the  Burrites, 
led  by  Van  Ness  and  Swartout,  a  little  band 
of  well-organized  workers,  whose  headquar 
ters  were  Martling's  Tavern,  and  whose 
spirit  was  perennially  fed  by  the  desire  to 
avenge  their  great  chief;  and  the  Ciinton- 
ians,  led  by  DeWitt  and  sheltered  from  pop 
ular  wrath  by  the  prestige  of  George  Clinton. 
These  three  factions  made  New  York  city 
their  seat  of  war,  and  from  their  fortified 
strongholds  controlled  the  state.  They  all 
claimed  to  be  the  Republican  or  Democratic 
party,  and  continually  accused  one  another 
of  treachery  and  attempted  alliances  with 
the  Federalists.  It  was  this  charge  that 
Clinton  had  raised  to  read  Burr  out  of  the 
party  in  1804,  and  it  was  the  same  charge 
that  was  hurled  against  Clinton  in  1815,  the 
year  of  his  first  downfall. 

In  this  stifling  atmosphere  of  narrow  par 
tisanship,  DeWitt  Clinton  thrived,  and  the 
wonder  is  that  its  poisonous  gases  did  not 
smother  the  greatness  of  his  soul.  He 
shared  in  all  the  littleness  of  the  petty  in 
trigues,  the  bar-room  rivalries,  the  street- 
corner  discussions.  He  dispensed  the  city 
patronage  with  the  hauteur  of  a  king.  The 
following  description  of  his  methods  and 


De  Witt  Clinton  81 

his  men  appeared  in  1810,  and  while  it  was 
written  by  an  enemy,  is  a  fair  account  of  ex 
isting  conditions,  and  is  not  nearly  as  violent 
as  other  contemporary  attacks  upon  Clinton : 

"You  [Clinton]  are  encircled  by  a  mercen 
ary  band,  who,  while  they  offer  adulation  to 
your  system  of  terror,  are  ready  at  the  first 
favorable  moment  to  forsake  and  desert  you. 
A  portion  of  them  are  needy  young  men,  who, 
without  maturely  investigating  the  conse 
quence,  have  sacrificed  principle  to  self- 
aggrandizement.  Others  are  mere  parasites, 
that  well  know  the  tenure  on  which  they 
hold  their  offices,  and  will  ever  pay  implicit 
obedience  to  those  who  administer  to  their 
wants.  Many  of  your  followers  are  among 
the  most  profligate  of  the  community.  They 
are  the  bane  of  social  and  domestic  happi 
ness,  servile  and  dependent  panderers." 

This  was  the  partisan  description  of  an  en 
emy  who,  "In  the  presence  of  God  and  his 
country/'  pledged  himself  to  establish  Clin 
ton's  "duplicity  and  perfidy." 

John  Wood,  a  school  teacher,  and  the 
author  of  several  intensely  partial  histories, 
thus  described  Clinton's  machinations  in  the 
council  : 

"De  Witt  Clinton,  then  in  the  Council  of 
Appointment,  regardless  of  the  admonitions 
of  his  venerable  uncle,  was  spreading  with  ma 
lignant  fury,  ruin  and  destruction  through 
out  the  state  of  New  York.  A  band  of  pre 
tended  patriots,  only  capable  of  acting  as 


82      Five  American  Politicians 

promoters  of  a  puppet  show,  were  hastening 
in  to  garble  the  fees  of  office.  During  this 
farcical  scene,  the  auctioneers  or  hammer 
men  were  buzzing  about  like  wandering  bees 
that  had  lost  their  hive.  Mothers  were  seen 
suppliant  for  days  together  in  Mr.  Clinton's 
lobby  to  obtain  pardon  for  their  sons ;  while 
affectionate  wives  did  not  hesitate  to  throw 
themselves  at  the  feet  of  DeWitt  to  shield 
their  husbands  from  beggary.  Every  vil 
lain  in  New  York  volunteered  in  his  ser 
vice." 

These  highly-colored  views  are  somewhat 
distorted  by  partisanship.  The  truth  is 
that  Clinton,  during  these  years  of  his  ma 
yoralty,  did  organize  his  following,  which 
consisted  mostly  of  artisans  and  the  poorer 
classes,  that  he  did  stoop  to  vulgar  methods, 
that  he  did  use  his  office  purely  for  selfish 
ends.  He  was  particularly  strong  among 
the  Irish  and  Scotch.  His  appointees  were 
all  his  trusted  followers.  Barbers,  bar 
tenders,  loiterers  and  artisans  were  active 
parts  in  his  personal  machine.  Besides 
holding  the  office  of  mayor,  Clinton  also  was 
a  member  of  the  state  senate,  and  in  1811 
was  Lieutenant  Governor.  Thus  he  wielded 
double  control:  he  held  in  his  right  hand 
the  patronage  of  the  state,  and  in  his  left  the 
patronage  of  the  city. 

Meanwhile  he  made  a  good  mayor.  His 
temperament  was  judicial,  not  rash,  and  he 
presided  in  court  with  ponderous  dignity, 


De  Witt  Clinton 83 

and  ruled  with  fairness  and  equity.  His 
mind  was  progressive,  and  he  delighted  in 
the  researches  of  natural  science.  He  made  a 
valuable  member  of  the  various  city  boards. 
In  body  he  was  a  giant,  well  developed  and 
robust,  and  he  made  an  efficient  police  offi 
cer,  feared  by  the  mob,  and  obeyed  by  his 
lieutenants.  He  was  present  at  nearly 
every  fire,  and  several  times  his  brawny  arms 
helped  to  quell  turbulent  uprisings  among 
the  sailors  and  wharfmen.  Withal,  he  had 
a  gift  for  scientific  research  and  literary  ex 
pression,  and  this  opened  for  him  the  doors 
of  the  most  refined  homes  of  the  city,  while 
his  stately  dignity  and  lavish  hospitality 
made  the  mayor's  mansion  a  renowned  social 
center. 

And  Clinton  was  the  embodiment  of  hon 
esty;  while. J^e  used  office  for  power,  he  never 
.used  it  for  profit.  I  cannot  find  in  the  entire 
vituperative  political  froth  of  the  day  a  sin 
gle  challenge  of  his  integrity.  It  was  this 
high-minded  attitude  on  money  matters  that 
in  later  years  endeared  him  to  the  people,  and 
lifted  him  into  power  over  the  united  strength 
of  all  factions. 

A  dispenser  of  favors  is  also  a  maker  of 
enemies.  The  disappointed  office  seekers 
joined  the  rivals  of  Clinton,  and  in  1809  they 
succeeded  in  supplanting  him.  It  was  at 
this  crisis  that  Clinton,  then  a  member  of 
the  state  senate,  attempted  his  alliance  with 
the  Burrites.  John  Swartout  was  their 


84      Five  American  Politicians 

leader.  Years  before  Clinton  and  Swartout 
had  fought  a  duel  at  Weehawken  over  some 
point  of  honor  raised  by  the  Clintonian  prop 
aganda  against  Burr.  It  is  one  of  the  unique 
duels  of  history.  At  the  first  fire  neither 
was  hit.  "Is  the  gentleman  satisfied?" 
asked  Clinton.  Upon  a  negative,  a  second 
shot  was  exchanged,  and  Swartout's  coat 
was  pierced.  Clinton  again  asked,  "Is  the 
gentleman's  honor  vindicated?"  It  was 
not.  The  third  bullet  lodged  in  Swartout's 
leg,  but  he  remained  standing  to  uphold  such 
honor  as  had  not  been  vindicated.  The 
final  bullet  struck  the  other  leg,  and  with 
both  supports  gone,  over  went  the  politician, 
his  honor  vindicated  at  last.  Swartout  soon 
regained  the  use  of  his  legs,  and  they  were 
swifter  than  ever  in  carrying  destruction 
into  the  Clintonian  camp. 

But  in  1809-10  Clinton  was  down  and  out. 
and  therefore  in  need  of  aid.  He  turned  to 
his  bitterest  foe.  The  price  of  peace  was 
the  restoration  of  Burr  and  the  silencing  of 
Cheetham,  the  Clintonian  bloodhound.  But 
when  Clinton  heard  the  wild  clamor  of  his 
henchmen  against  the  proposed  union,  he 
evaded  the  agreement  in  a  manner  unworthy 
the  great  leader  he  was. 

Great  national  events  were  now  agitating 
the  people  more  profoundly  than  the  mere 
question  of  transitory  leadership.  Napol 
eon's  Milan  and  Berlin  decrees,  and  the  Brit 
ish  Orders  in  Council  were  wrecking  our 


De  Witt  Clinton 85 

trade  and  kidnapping  our  seamen.  The  war 
ferment  was  working  in  the  hearts  of  patri 
ots.  And  politicians  were  seeking  to  use 
this  patriotic  fervor  for  personal  gain.  Clin 
ton  was  restored  to  the  mayoralty  in  1810, 
while  his  rival,  Tompkins,  was  elected  gover 
nor.  The  Lewisites  tried  to  show  that  Clin 
ton  was  not  a  patriot  because  he  was  op 
posed  to  war.  All  manner  of  puerile  tactics 
were  pursued  to  prove  his  heterodoxy.  A 
mass  meeting  was  called  by  Tammany  to 
endorse  President  Madison's  administration. 
Clinton  was  out  of  town.  A  Tammany  pa 
per,  learning  of  this,  printed  in  its  next  issue 
that  "an  abominable  intrigue"  was  on  foot 
to  make  Clinton  chairman,  and  that  this 
would  be  "  an  insult  to  public  understand 
ing."  Clinton,  of  course,  was  not  able  to  be 
present  at  the  meeting,  and  the  same  paper 
proclaimed  that  he  was  absent  because  he 
was  not  a  Republican  and  out  of  sympathy 
with  its  national  attitude. 

In  1811  Clinton  was  made  lieutenant  gov 
ernor  to  fill  a  vacancy  under  Tompkins,  his 
rival.  This  set  Tammany  in  violent  com 
motion.  Martling's  Long  Room  was  the 
scene  of  a  tumultuous  meeting  that  nomi 
nated  Marius  Willet  for  the  place,  and  re 
solved  that  Clinton  was  designing  against 
the  Republican  party  and  was  "determined 
to  establish  in  his  person  a  pernicious  fam 
ily  aristocracy,  that  devotion  to  his  person 
had  been  in  a  great  measure  made  the  ex- 


86      Five  American  Politicians 

elusive  test  of  merit,  and  the  only  passport 
to  promotion/'  and  as  he  was  opposed  to 
Madison,  he  was  therefore  no  longer  a  Re 
publican. 

Meanwhile  the  Clintonians  met  in  the  Union 
Hotel  and  resolved  to  stand  by  their  patron, 
but  before  the  meeting  was  adjourned,  the 
Martlings  rushed  into  the  room,  puffed  out 
the  candles,  overturned  the  furniture,  and 
broke  up  the  meeting. 

Clinton  really  did  believe  in  war,  but  he 
believed  in  a  rigorous  and  efficient  warfare, 
not  in  the  insipid  and  half-hearted  attempts 
of  Madison  and  Jefferson.  He  bellieved 
that  the  war  should  be  delayed  until  the 
country  had  an  army  with  at  least  a  sem 
blance  of  discipline,  and  a  navy  fit  to  coope 
rate  with  the  army.  To  the  Federalists  he 
made  his  position  seem  one  of  inaction, 
therefore  they  rallied  to  his  support.  To 
the  Republicans  he  seemed  guilty  of  party 
treason,  because  he  did  not  approve  the 
course  of  Madison. 

Clinton  quite  suddenly  decided  to  become 
a  candidate  for  President  in  1812.  With  the 
advent  of  this  ambition  departed  his  polit 
ical  sagacity.  For  by  what  means  could  he 
hope  to  be  elected,  or  even  nominated?  He 
was  not  a  Federalist,  and  the  Republican 
congressional  caucus,  under  the  domination 
of  the  Virginia  dynasty,  had  renominated 
Madison.  Clinton  hated  this  dynasty.  He 
could  not  forget  that  his  uncle  had  been 


De  Witt  Clinton 87 

ruthlessly  pushed  aside  in  1808,  to  make 
way  for  Jefferson's  favorite.  He  resolved 
to  break  the  caucus  system,  to  demolish 
the  dynasty,  to  become  President,  and  to 
promote  a  successful  war  with  Great  Britain. 

The  congressional  caucus  was  in  ill  favor 
in  New  England  and  only  one  member 
from  New  York  and  four  from  the  North 
eastern  Atlantic  and  New  England  states 
attended  the  caucus  that  named  Madison. 
It  had  degenerated  into  a  farce.  The  Pres 
ident  and  his  cabinet  controlled  it  com 
pletely.  The  will  of  the  people  was  never 
consulted.  It  was  boss  rule,  pure  and  sim 
ple,  with  the  boss  in  the  executive  chair. 

On  May  28,  1812,  a  co^mjp_ariy..xii,EfipLubli- 
can  members -of  the  New  York  legislature 
nominated  Clinton  for  President,  and  recom 
mended  him  to  the  other  states  of  the  union. 
K  committee  of  seventeen  was  appointed  to 
carry  this  into  effect.  Thus  did  Clinton 
break  the  congressional  caucus.  This  was 
running  counter  to  all  precedents,  and  sev 
eral  prominent  Republicans  refused  to  par 
ticipate  in  the  movement.  Indeed,  those 
present  at  the  meeting  hesitated  long  before 
they  nominated  Clinton,  and  the  arrival  of 
Van  Cortland  and  other  congressmen  from 
Washington,  with  letters  from  Postmaster 
General  Gideon  Granger  urging  the  action, 
led  them  to  take  this  final  step.  It  was  an 
earnest  and  solemn  meeting.  Everyone 
present  seemed  impressed  that  they  were 


88      Five  American  Politicians 

effecting  a  new  departure  in  political  meth 
ods.  General  Rust  made  an  impressive 
speech,  in  which  he  endeavored  to  show  how 
unwise  it  would  be  to  nominate  Clinton 
against  Madison.  He  lauded  Clinton,  but 
said  that  the  procedure  would  ruin  him,  and 
dramatically  ended  his  harangue  by  throw 
ing  up  his  arms  and  crying:  "Spare,  oh 
spare,  that  great  man!" 

In  September  an  attempt  was  made  to  in 
duce  Clinton  to  withdraw  from  the  race. 
General  King  wrote  to  Judge  Taylor:  "No 
event  would  exalt  Mr.  Clinton  higher  than 
a  surrender  of  his  pretensions  to  the  presi 
dent's  chair,"  and  pledged  the  support  of 
Massachusetts  for  Clinton  in  1816.  But 
Clinton's  manager,  Riker,  would  make  no 
bargains  "inconsistent  with  pure  Republi 
canism."  This  correspondence  was  impru 
dently  published  and  did  much  harm  to  Clin 
ton's  cause. 

(Vm ton  received  89  electoral  votes  against 
Madison's  128.  The  Virginia  dynasty  still 
held  sway.  Clinton's  independent  action 
divorced  him  from  his  party.  In  JL815 
Tammany  demanded  his  removal  as  mayor. 
The  casting  vote  in  the  council  was  with 
Gov.  Tompkins,  who  had  presidential  as 
pirations.  He  did  not  wish  to  offend  Clin 
ton's  friends  nor  did  he  dare  to  refuse  the  de^ 
mands  of  Tammany.  Clinton  was  deposed. 

He  was  now  in  a  deplorable  state.  He 
had  no  business  to  which  he  could  turn  for  a 


De  Witt  Clinton  89 

livelihood.  His  generosity  and  un-wisdom 
had  deprived  him  of  his  ample  patrimony 
and  the  fortune  of  his  wife.  The  Tam- 
manyites  seemed  finally  to  have  put  away 
their  bitter  foe  forever.  Politically  he 
was  left  alone  in  that  most  pitiable  state, 
a  man  without  a  party.  He  was  not  a 
Federalist,  and  the  Republicans  gladly  dis 
owned  him.  Such  are  the  vicissitudes  of 
politics.  Here  stood  the  man  who  had 
taught  his  party  the  value  of  office  as 
nourishment  to  party  brawn,  who  had  served 
with  renown  in  national  and  state  councils, 
who  had  been  a  formidable  candidate  for 
the  Presidency,  and  who  almost  succeeded 
in  amalgamating  the  Federal  remnants  to 
the  progressive  elements  of  the  Republican 
party,  who  had  befriended  thousands  with 
office,  and  elevated  hundreds  to  places  of 
prominence,  here  he  stood  alone,  deserted, 
in  want. 

Martling's  Long  Room  resounded  with  the 
din  of  merry  toasts  and  the  derisive  laugh 
ter  of  victorious  braves;  for  the  very  wea 
pons  that  Clinton  had  wielded  against  Burr 
twelve  years  before,  now  had  been  thrust  into 
his  own  heart,  and  the  bitterest  foe,  the  most 
unrelenting  enemy,  that  Tammany  had  ever 
encountered  lay  dying  on  the  field  of  battle. 

This  defeat  was  a  turning  point  in  the 
career  of  Clinton.  His  preparatory  work 
as  a  politician  was  over,  his  task  as  a  states 
man  began  with  his  overthrow.  We  will 


90      Five  American  Politicians 

pause  here  to  examine  the  manner  of  a  man 
he  had  developed  into,  and  try  to  find  the 
sources  of  his  great  strength,  for  DeWitt 
Clinton  was  not  dead,  he  was  only  meta 
morphosing  from  the  voracious  larva  of  a 
spoils-hunting  politician  into  the  glorious 
imago  of  a  wise  and  useful  statesman. 

Clinton  once  wrote  to  a  colleague:  "In 
a  political  warfare,  the  defensive  side  will 
eventually  lose.  Energy  in  a  good  cause 
will  carry  everything.  The  meekness  of 
Quakerism  will  do  in  religion,  but  not  in 
politics.  I  repeat  it:  everything  will  answer 
with  energy  and  decision."  This  was  Clin 
ton's  political  rule.  In  his  youth  he  was 
given  to  energy,  in  middle  life  he  added 
decision,  and  in  the  ripeness  of  years  he 
applied  them  to  a  good  cause.  In  his  youth 
he  had  resorted  to  all  the  tricks  of  the  poli 
tician.  There  was  not  a  device  known  to 
careful  vote-getting  that  he  did  not  employ. 
He  utilized  everything  in  securing  majori 
ties,  public  office,  scholarship,  passion, 
prejudice,  appetite,  were  all  made  ser- 
vient  to  his  ambition.  As  years  matured 
his  thought  and  gave  dignity  to  his  bearing, 
he  forgot  the  tricks  of  the  politician  and 
relied  more  upon  his  personal  influence. 
His  machine  became  his  personal  machine, 
and  his  power  was  personal.  He  looked 
after  all  the  details  of  organization  himself. 
He  was  ambitious  to  build  up  a  great  party, 
it  should  be  a  Clintonian  party,  of  which 


De  Witt  Clinton 91 

he  should  be  the  center  of  gravity  and  to 
which  he  would  attract  such  atoms  as  would 
willingly  be  drawn  by  the  mystic  powers  of 
his  personal  energy.  Such  a  leader  he  could 
become  for  a  state  only.  Our  country  has 
never  had  a  national  personal  party.  The 
influence  of  a  national  issue  must  unite  with 
a  great  personality  to  create  a  national  party. 

Clinton  was  a  fighter.  He  fought  flesh 
with  flesh,  blow  was  given  in  exchange  for 
blow.  And  when  hit,  he  struck  right  back 
blindly,  without  taking  time  to  plan.  He 
could  fight  men,  but  not  parties,  and  he 
made  all  of  his  battles  personal  encounters. 
This  added  a  bitterness  to  his  politics  which 
is  hard  to  understand  to-day.  Politics  were 
personal  with  him.  He  could  unmake  can 
didates,  but  not  overthrow  conspiracies. 

Clinton  never  forgave.  He  was  relent 
less.  His  temper  was  terrible  in  its  sudden 
gusts  of  passionate  wrath.  Impatient  was 
he,  and  proud,  disdaining  weaklings  and 
scorning  the  mediocre.  His  jealousy  was 
all-consuming.  In  later  years  his  love  for 
adulation  became  a  mania.  He  could  not 
endure  one  rival.  Physically  he  was  as 
perfect  as  an  Apollo;  mentally  he  was  as 
analytic  as  Bacon;  in  demaenor  he  was 
austere  as  a  Roman.  In  private  life  he  was 
pure  and  affectionate.  He  was  absolutely 
honest.  To  his  followers  he  kept  his  troth, 
to  the  public  he  was  faithful  to  the  least 
fraction  of  a  cent. 


92      Five  American  Politicians 

.He... was  as  constructive  in  his  statejmiaijr 
ship  as  he  was  destructive  in  his  political 
manoeuvre.  As  mayor  he  started  the  Free 
School*"  Association,  the  forerunner  of  the 
public  schools-;  he  was  a  patron  of  the  arts 
and  sciences,  and  was  devoted  with  filial 
affection  to  the  commercial  welfare  of  his 
city,  looking  after  her  harbors,  and  markets, 
and  streets,  and  public  buildings  with  greater 
care  than  men  usually  bestow  upon  their 
own  estates. 

As  a  member  of  the  legislature,  he  was  in 
cessant  in  his  activity  in  behalf  of  progres 
sive  measures.  He  introduced  bills  organ 
izing  the  state  schools  system,  the  Sailor's 
Snug  Harbor,  the  City  Hospital,  the  first 
fire  insurance  company  of  New  York,  the 
first  Academy  of  Arts  and  Sciences  of  New 
York.  Thus  also  did  he  charter  Astor's 
American  Fur  Company,  the  Humane  So 
ciety,  the  New  York  Missionary  Society. 
The  range  of  subjects  introduced  by  him 
covers  the  entire  field  of  human  endeavor 
and  philanthropy,  and  a  mere  enumeration 
of  the  titles  of  his  measures  would  occupy 
several  pages.  The  tremendous  energy  of 
his  mind  knew  no  pause. 

I  have  said  that  politics  with  him  was 
a  personal  matter.  He  shared  with  Andrew 
Jackson  that  unfortunate  self-fatuation  that 
denies  to  others  the  right  of  independent 
thought.  To  express  sentiments  contrary 
to  his  own  convictions,  was  to  be  at  enmity 


De  Witt  Clinton 93 

with  him.  I  consider  this  personal  rancor 
the  great  weakness  of  DeWitt  Clinton,  for 
had  he  possessed  the  gracious  demeanor 
and  kindly  soul  of  his  rival,  Governor 
Tompkins,  he  would  have  been  the  most 
formidable  American  of  his  day. 

His  letters  reveal  this  dismal  and  repelling 
quality  of  soul  which  blinded  his  foresight, 
warped  his  judgment,  and  fed  his  imperious 
temper.  Van  Buren  is  an  "  arch  scoundrel," 
"the  prince  of  villains,"  a  "  confirmed  knave." 
Calhoun  is  "a  thorough-paced  blackleg," 
"base  and  dishonorable."  Crawford  is  "as 
hardened  a  ruffian  as  Burr."  John  Quincy 
Adams,  "In  politics  an  apostate,  in  private 
life  a  pedagogue,  and  everything  but  amic 
able  and  honest."  Governor  Yates  is  "per 
fidious  and  weak."  Wheaton,  the  writer  on 
International  Law,  "is  a  pitiful  scoundrel," 
Rufus  King  a  "declaimer,"  Judge  Thomp 
son,  of  the  United  States  Supreme  Court, 
"is  one  of  the  domestic  circles  of  President 
Monroe,  and  one  of  the  coterie  of  old  women 
that  surround  him."  But  his  personalities 
did  not  stop  with  adjectives  and  expletives. 
He  even  stooped  to  the  filth  of  scandal. 
"You  see  what  they  say  about  Mrs.  M.  It 
is  said  that  Van  Buren  paid  her  rent  when 
under  distress  in  this  place."  Even  Puri 
tanic  John  Quincy  Adams  he  associated  with 
similar  immoralities.  For  the  minor  char 
acters  in  his  political  drama,  Clinton  ex 
pressed  still  greater  contempt. 


94      Five  American  Politicians 

In  spite  of  his  foolish  jealousies  that  en 
wrapped  his  mind  as  a  cold  and  humid  fog 
enshrouds  a  mountain  peak,  Clinton  towered 
in  stately  dignity  above  the  busy  politicians 
who  had  aimed  his  destruction. 

Clinton  was  a  devoted  lover  of  nature  and 
had  the  gift  of  a  true  scientific  mstinct. 
He  devoted  himself  to  the  study,  particu 
larly  of  those  branches  of  science  that  were 
not  merely  speculative,  but  were  also  useful 
to  mankind.  The  results  of  his  investiga 
tions  he  wrote  in  luminous,  though  often 
stilted,  English,  for  the  periodicals.  And 
he  was  greatly  in  demand  as  a  speaker  upon 
special  occasions. 

He  had  early  become  interested  in  the 
history  of  the  Five  Nations  and  other  Indian 
tribes,  then  fast  vanishing  before  the  aggres 
siveness  of  civilization.  He  discovered  a 
new  native  variety  of  wheat,  and  a  new 
species  of  fish  in  the  Hudson.  He  was 
elected  a  member  of  the  Linnsean  Society 
of  London.  He  inquired  into  the  utiliza 
tion  of  the  water  power  of  the  streams 
of  his  state,  the  stocking  of  lakes 
and  ponds  with  fish.  He  had  been  for  a 
number  of  years  the  president  of  the  Liter 
ary  and  Philosophical  Society  of  New  York, 
was  an  active  member  of  the  Academy  of 
Fine  Arts,  and  of  the  Historical  Society. 
He  was  the  intimate  companion  of  Dr.  Ho- 
sack,  a  well  known  botanist,  and  of  Dr. 
Mitchell  of  the  Columbia  faculty,  among  the 


De  Witt  Clinton 95 

first  zealots  of  the  new  science  of  zoology. 
Clinton  outranked  many  specialists  in  the 
power  of  observation  and  research,  for  he 
left  more  permanent  contributions  to  science 
than  most  of  his  professional  friends.  Had 
he  so  chosen,  Clinton  might  have  become  a 
great  naturalist. 

To  all  of  these  interests  in  science  and  the 
utilities  of  nature,  he  could  devote  only  such 
fragments  of  time  as  he  could  snatch  from 
the  busy  hours  of  politics  and  administration. 
Throughout  his  public  life  it  was  his  cus 
tom  to  rise  very  early  and  dispose  of  his 
correspondence  before  breakfast,  reserving 
the  day  for  business  and  the  evening  for 
pleasure  and  study. 

He  was  a  man  without  a  party,  but  he 
had  a  cause .  The  One  power  that  is  greater 
in  politics  than  a  machine  and  a  hundred 
thousand  offices,  is  a  cause  that  appeals  to 
the  hearts  of  voters  and  to  their  reason. 
Clinton  had  such  an  issue.  It  was  created 
by  his  scientific  spirit  and  was  nurtured  into 
maturity  by  his  statecraft.  It  is  one  of  a 
rare  number  of  political  issues  that  have 
found  origin  in  scientific  study  and  favor 
with  the  populace. 

A  waterway  connecting  the  Hudson  with 
the  great  lakes  had  long  been  one  of  the 
dreams  of  commercial  New  York.  In  1809 
Clinton  was  appointed  one  of  a  commission 
to  investigate  the  subject.  There  was  con 
fusion  as  to  the  best  route,  some  preferring 


96      Five  American  Politicians 

the  Ontario  connection  to  that  of  Lake  Erie. 
There  was  great  doubt  as  to  the  practi 
cability  of  any  plan  of  such  magnitude,  and 
the  enormous  cost  of  the  undertaking  stag 
gered  the  taxpayer  and  the  legislator. 
Clinton  attacked  the  problem  with  all  his 
native  energy.  His  scientific  instinct  and 
knowledge  of  public  affairs  united  in  en 
abling  him  in  giving  definite  shape  to  the 
issue,  and  his  wide  reputation  gave  immedi 
ate  prominence  to  his  plan. 

In  1815  he  prepared  an  exhaustive  mem 
orial  detailing  the  results  of  the  state  sur 
veys;  massing  the  argument  in  favor  of  the 
Erie  route;  estimating  in  detail  the  cost; 
demonstrating  the  practicability  of  the 
canal;  and  closing  with  a  fervent  patriotic 
plea  for  the  immediate  constructing  of  a 
public  work  that  would  add  so  greatly  to 
the  prosperity  of  the  state  and  strengthen 
the  bonds  of  union  with  the  great  west. 

This  memorial  stands  as  one  of  the  able 
state  papers  of  the  century.  Its  argument 
was  so  convincing,  its  spirit  was  so  lofty  and 
non-partisan,  that  for  the  moment  all  oppo 
sition  was  breathless.  The  memorial  was 
first  submitted  to  a  meeting  of  leading  busi 
ness  men  and  politicians  in  New  York  city, 
held  in  the  city  hall  in  the  autumn  of  1815. 
It  was  signed  by  great  numbers  of  citizens 
and  was  sent  on  a  triumphal  journey  through 
the  state,  where  it  was  received  with  enthu 
siasm  at  public  meetings,  and  thus  rein- 


De  Witt  Clinton 97 

forced  it  was  presented  to  the  legislature. 
Clinton  went  to  Albany  personally  to  direct 
the  fortune  of  his  measure. 

In  April,  1816,  a  commission  was  appoint 
ed  to  ''provide  for  the  improvement  of  the 
internal  navigation  of  the  state."  Clinton 
was  the  life  of  this  commission.  His  learn- 
-  ing  arid  enthusiasm  and  practical  sense  di- 
'rectedits  procedure,  and  he  personally  con- 
-dtrcted  the  members  over  the  440  miles  of 
the  ground  to  be  traversed  by  the  canal. 
He^\vrote  the  rerjpjrt^ drafted  the  law  pro 
viding  for  the  construction  of  the  canal, .and 
led  the  contest  in  the  legislature  for  its 
passage.  This  contest  was  a  bitter  one. 
The  Tammanyites  opposed  it  to  a  man,  for 
purely  personal  reasons.  They  disapproved 
everything  Clinton  espoused.  Even  after 
Ms  passage  through  the  legislature  it  met 
unusual  opposition  in  the  Council  of  Revision. 
Governor  Tompkins  was  violent  in  his  hos 
tility.  He  did  not  wish  to  give  Clinton  the 
political  advantage  such  a  measure  would 
insure.  Clinton  carefully  evolved  a  scheme 
for  financing  the  canal.  He  studied  the  au 
thorities  on  public  finance  and  corresponded 
with  the  leading  merchants  and  financiers  of 
his  day,  both  in  this  country  and  in  Europe. 
His  diary  is  filled  with  extracts  from  au 
thorities  and  letters  upon  the  subject,  and 
shows  how  carefully  he  worked  out  the 
practical  details  of  the  law.  Clinton  con 
vinced  Chancellor  Kent  and  thus  saved  the 


98      Five  American  Politicians 

measure  in  the  Council  of  Revision*,  This 
was  one  of  Clinton's  greatest  victories. 

Governor  Tompkins  had  been  ree'lec  ted,  but 
resigned  in  1816  to  accept  the  vice-presidency 
under  Monroe.  The  people  promptly  clam 
ored  for  Clinton.  But  the  legislative  caucus 
was  hostile.  In  these  caucuses  only  those 
people  were  represented  that  had  representa 
tives  in  the  legislature.  Thus  the  Federalists 
in  a  Republican  district  were  never  repre 
sented  in  a  caucus  of  their  party.  The  Clin- 
tonians  now  clamored  for  a  convention  in 
which  the  Clintonians  of  every  county  should 
be  represented,  whether  they  had  a  member 
in  the  legislature  or  not.  The  counties  that 
had  representatives  in  the  legislature  were 
to  be  represented  by  their  members.  Clin 
ton  was  popular  in  the  Federal  counties,  and 
his  managers  knew  that  he  could  win  the 
nomination  in  such  a  gathering. 

Tammany  hurled  itself  into  the  campaign 
with  fiendish  ardor.  They  had  no  issues  ex 
cept  Clinton's  personality,  and  his  canal. 
Sarcasm  and  ridicule  were  their  weapons. 

In  the  hall  of  the  Literary  and  Philosoph 
ical  Society  were  busts  and  portraits  of  ce 
lebrities.  In  1819  the  bust  of  Franklin  was 
added.  The  following  dialogue  appeared 
in  a  Tammany  print. 

"Bust  of  Franklin: 
'Here  in  good  company — Rousseau, 
Great  Newton,  Buffon,  Sully,  Daguesseau, 


De  Witt  Clinton 99 

The  choicest  spirits  of  the  mighty  dead. 
But  who  is  that  above  our  Newton's  head? ' 

"Vice  President  (Clinton): 
'  Tis  Dr.  Clinton,  our  state's  chief  reliance, 
A  paragon  of  learning,  wit  and  science. 
Skilled  in  all  arts,  the  Critchton  of  our  day.' 

"Bust: 

*  Quick  take  me  down,  for  here  I  cannot  stay 
Clinton  so  grand,  Newton  so  small  below ! 
These  portraits  by  their  contrasts  strangely 

show 

How  little  place  has  science  here  obtained, 
4nd  how  triumphantly  imposture  reigns.' 

Of  his  "big  ditch"  they  sang: 
"Oh  a  ditch  he  would  dig  from  the  lakes  to 

the  sea, 
The  eighth  of  the  world's  matchless  wonders 

to  be, 
Good  land,  how  absurd!     But  why  should 

you  grin? 
It  will  do  to  bury  its  mad  author  in." 

But  the  triumphant  Clintonians,  their 
chief  elected  by  40,000  votes,  over  a  bare 
1,500  given  to  the  Martling  candidate, 
shouted  gleefully  in  response: 
"Witt  Clinton  is  dead,  St.  Tammany  said, 
And  all  the  pappooses  with  laughter  were 

weeping, 

But  Clinton  arose  and  confounded  his  foes, 
The  cunning  old  fox  had  only  been  sleep 
ing." 


ioo    Five  American  Politicians 

Clinton  now  had  an  opportunity  to  con 
ciliate  Tammany.  The  landslide  had  swept 
away  the  hostile  majorities,  and  he  con 
trolled  the  legislature  and  the  Council  of  Ap 
pointment.  But  Clinton  could  not  forgive. 
He  gave  a  reception  at  his  home  for  the  mem 
bers  of  the  legislature,  but  he  would  not  in 
vite  the  Tammany  members.  "The  miser 
able  bucktails,"  he  said,  "are  unfit  for  such 
courtesy."  His  bitterness  baptized  the 
Martlings  with  a  new  name,  and  "buck- 
tails"*  they  remained  long  after  death  had 
finally  taken  away  the  most  -  stubborn  foe 
they  ever  encountered. 

The  Clintonians  had  the  majorities,  but 
the  Bucktails  had  the  leaders.  Van  Buren, 
brilliant  and  full  of  resource,  was  more  than 
a  match  for  Clinton,  who  had  forgotten  his 
cunning  and  tried  to  rule  with  a  hand  of  iron. 
Trip-hammer  authority  cannot  last  long  in 
politics.  Through  lack  of  a  leader,  the  ma 
jority  had  its  power  wrested  from  it.  Van 
Buren  drove  the  wedge  of  partisanship  deep 
er  and  deeper  between  the  two  factions,  at 
tempting  thereby  to  sever  Clinton  entirely 
from  the  body  of  his  party,  and  let  the  Buck- 
tails  remain  the  true  democracy.  Clinton  had 
shown  some  favor  toward  the  Federal  rem 
nants,  alleging  that  they  were  no  party,  and 

*The  regalia  of  Tammany  Hall  prescribed  that  the 
tail  of  a  deer  be  worn  on  the  cap.  Hence  Clinton  took 
his  suggestion  for  the  name  "Bucktails." 


DeWitt  Clinton 101 

therein  he  was  right.  Van  Buren  said  they 
were  a  party,  that  their  fire  had  not  gone 
out,  but  was  merely  in  embers,  and  any 
man  who  showed,  the  least  desire  to  blow 
upon  these  embers  was  not  a  Republican. 

Clinton  was  ambitious  to  amalgamate  the 
Federal  and  Republican  factions  into  one 
strong  party,  a  Clintonian  party.  Van 
Buren  was  determined  to  'erhphasize1  all  the 
differences  and  split  the  factions,  so  thai, 
he  would  be  the  leader*  of  t  the  Republican 
party,  and  Clinton  an  "apostate. 

Two  charges  were  spoken  against  Clinton. 
First,  he  was  the  party.  From  youth  up 
he  had  been  a  dictator,  a  disburser  of  pat 
ronage.  He  was  haughty,  cold  and  respons 
ive  only  to  praise.  Secondly,  he  was  a  Fed 
eralist.  Did  he  not  in  1812  bargain  with  the 
Federalists  for  the  presidency  against  a  Re 
publican  president?  Did  he  not  curry  their 
favor  in  state  and  city  councils?  Had  he 
not  even  in  the  past  few  months  appointed 
some  of  that  tainted  company  to  office? 

Such  is  the  human  love  for  orthodoxy, 
that  the  ruse  succeeded.  Van  Buren  wrest 
ed  for  his  minority  the  control  of  the  legis 
lature  and  council  from  the  majority.  The 
"Albany  Argus,"  a  Bucktail  organ,  said: 
"A  majority  of  the  canal  commissioners  are 
now  politically  opposed  to  the  governor, 
and  it  will  not  be  necessary  for  a  person  who 
wishes  to  obtain  employment  on  the  canal 


IO2    Five  American  Politicians 

as  agent,  contractor  or  otherwise,  to  avow 
himself   a   Clintonian." 

The  Bucktails,  seeing  that  the  Governor's 
majorities  were  drawn  by  his  canal  policy, 
resolved  to  embarrass  him  by  voting  for  ex 
orbitant  appropriations,  intending  to  in 
veigle  him  into  opposing  their  bill  and  make 
it  appear  that  he  had  abandoned  his  favorite 
^neasuiie..  ,  But  they  failed  in  their  purpose. 
'The  clectioa  of  1819  gave  Clintuii  once 
.mere  tho  control  of  the  Council  of  Appoint 
ment,  and"  the  former  vigor  of  the  staid  old 
politician  seemed  to  return.  Bucktails  were 
removed  by  the  score.  Richard  Ricker,  a 
popular  and  efficient  recorder,  was  removed, 
as  was  also  Van  Buren,  the  attorney  general. 
So  wild  and  delirious  was  this  council,  that 
its  action  caused  comment,  even  in  those 
days.  The  partisan  spirit  of  the  day  is  illus 
trated  by  the  following  incident: 

The  county  of  Ulster  had  not  for  many 
years  had  a  member  in  the  Council  of  Ap 
pointment.  Jacobus  S.  Bruyn,  an  inde 
pendent,  high-minded  descendant  of  good 
Dutch  stock  was  mentioned  for  the  place. 
One  day  he  met  Ambrose  Spencer,  Clinton's 
confidential  man  and  manager,  who  asked 
Bruyn  whether  he  would  follow  the  route 
marked  out  for  him,  if  elected.  Bruyn  did 
not  even  answer  this  insolent  question,  but 
walked  away,  indignant  at  the  insult.  Soon 
after  he  met  Clinton,  who  asked :  "  Sir,  will 
you  follow  the  path  we  have  marked  out  for 


De  Witt  Clinton 103 

you,  if  you  are  elected  to  the  Council?" 
Bruyn  answered  that  he  would  make  no 
promises  and  that,  if  elected,  he  should  act 
as  he  thought  proper.  "Then/'  Clinton  ex 
claimed,  "  I'll  be  damned  if  you  should  have 
my  vote  if  I  had  one."  The  dauntless 
Dutchman  replied  that  he  would  not  thank 
him  for  his  vote,  and  had  not  asked  it. 
Ulster  County  remained  without  a  represen 
tative  in  the  Council. 

It  is  a  pity  so  much  of  mere  clay  should 
enter  into  the  compound  of  so  superior  a 
man. 

In  1820  a  legislative  caucus  of  Repub 
licans  nominated  Senator  Tompkins  for  gov 
ernor.  He  was  the  Bucktail  candidate. 
The  Clintonians  stayed  away  from  the  cau 
cus  and  called  a  convention,  which  named 
Clinton. 

Van  .Buren,  by  a  .sharp  trick;,  had  drawn 
the  Federalists  away  from  Clinton.  He  did 
this  by  endorsing  Rufus  King,  a  Federalist 
United  States  Senator,  for  reelection.  He 
became  guilty  of  the  same  political  sin  of 
which  he  had  so  often  accused  Clinton. 
'Consistency  is  not  a  jewel  meant  to  shine 
in  the  crown  of  a  political  czar. 

Soon  after  the  canvass  began,  a  number  of 
Federalists  circulated  an  address  accusing 
Clinton  of  personal  aggrandizement  and  fa 
voritism,  and  affirming  that  as  "  high-mind 
ed  "  men  they  could  not  support  him.  This 
was  the  harvest  of  Van  Buren's  support  of 


104    Five  American  Politicians 

Senator  King.  The  "high-minded  Feder 
alists,"  however,  could  not  entice  all  their 
faction  into  the  Bucktail  ranks.  Clilii2S_ 
was^ceeloeted,  ..but  by  a  majority  of  only 
1457  votes.  The  canal  zone  saved  him. 
Had  the  "Governor  displayed  a  conciliatory 
spirit,  and  had  he  been  as  highly  endowed 
with  political  sagacity  as  he  was  with  per 
sonal  prowess,  he  would  probably  have  been 
reflected  without  opposition.  But  his  ar 
bitrary  manner  and  unbending  temper 
made  enemies,  bitter  and  unforgiving,  while 
his  utter  lack  of  management  disorganized 
his  own  following,  and  made  them  easy 
victims. 

While  he  succeeded  in  his  canvass,  every 
thing  else  went  against  him.  The  legis 
lature  and  with  it  the  Council,  were  in  com 
plete  control  of  his  enemies,  and  his  arch 
foe,  Van  Buren,  was  sent  to  the  United 
States  senate.  The  council  made  a  clean 
sweep.  Its  leader,  Skinner,  was  a  violent 
foe  of  Clinton  and  played  the  governor's  own 
game  with  skill.  Every  office  was  vacated, 
even  military  commissions  were  recalled, 
and  the  state  superintendent  of  schools  was 
removed.  Controller  Mclntyre,  who  had 
held  office  fourteen  years,  although  there  had 
been  in  that  interval  four  Councils  hostile 
to  him,  was  removed.  He  was  a  very  able 
and  popular  official,  and  his  removal  caused 
a  sensation.  He  was  immediately  elected 
to  the  state  senate,  as  a  rebuke  of  this  whole- 


De  Witt  Clinton 105 

sale  slaughter.  It  was  a  clean-cut  issue, 
the  people  rebuked  the  politicians. 

Happily  for  New  York,  this  session  of  the 
legislature  called  a  constitutional  conven 
tion,  which  did  away  with  the  notorious 
Council  of  Appointment.  What  a  ghastly 
record  this  political  guillotine  had  made! 
Not  one  prominent  politician  in  the  state, 
but  had  felt  the  deep  cut  of  its  keen  blade; 
senators,  governors,  judges,  mayors,  sher 
iffs,  clerks,  justices,  militia  officers,  and 
school  officials  all  shared  alike  in  the  annual 
carnival  of  carnage  and  slaughter.  The 
political  headsman  was  no  respecter  of 
persons.  The  knitting  woman  was  kept 
busy  counting  the  severed  heads,  as  they 
rolled  from  under  the  drop.  Some  were 
resurrected  by  the  miracle  of  majority,  but 
most  of  them  were  left  to  decay  on  the 
ghastly  heap  where  the  red-handed  spoils 
man  had  tossed  them. 

The  new  constitution  was  radically  dem 
ocratic.  In  place  of  a  council  of  review  was 
placed  a  governor's  veto,  the  bars  of  franchise 
were  thrown  down  and  everyone  allowed  to 
vote,  the  appointing  power  was  reduced  to  a 
few  subordinate  places  and  the  greatly  in 
creased  electorate  given  free  hand  in  the  choice 
of  all  officers,  petty  and  great.  From  one 
extreme  to  the  other  swung  the  pendulum 
of  public  sentiment.  The  vote  adopting 
the  new  constitution  stood  75,422  to  41,497. 
The  voice  of  the  people  did  not  waver. 


106    Five  American  Politicians 

The  Bucktail  legislature  was  insolent  in 
its  hostility  to  Clinton.  It  had  been  the 
custom  of  the  governor  to  deliver  his  annual 
message  verbally.  The  Bucktails  "  Re 
solved  that  the  custom  of  delivering  a 
speech  by  the  executive  to  the  legislature  is 
a  remnant  of  royalty,  not  recommended  by 
any  consideration  of  public  utility,  and 
ought  to  be  abolished."  The  resolution 
was  not  adopted,  but  it  reveals  the  petty 
spirit  of  the  house. 

The  national  administration,  hostile  to 
Clinton,  filled  the  New  York  custom  house 
with  Bucktails,  and  in  the  last  election,  the 
government  appointees  had  displayed  a 
partisan  activity  that  was  more  than  per 
nicious.  The  federal  office-holders  had 
marched  the  employees  of  the  Navy  Yard 
to  the  polls,  to  the  music  of  bands  and 
under  banners  floating  Bucktail  slogans. 
The  husky  sailors  and  workmen  were  not 
content  to  deposit  their  own  vote  merely,  but 
bullied  and  threatened  all  comers  until  the 
election  was  turned  into  a  general  riot.  Clin 
ton,  always  willing  to  use  office-holders  for 
his  own  benefit,  was  angered  by  this  display 
of  force,  and  sent  a  message  to  the  legislature 
asking  an  investigation.  The  message  was  so 
voluminous  that  it  was  conveyed  to  the 
chambers  in  a  green  bag,  and  was  there 
fore  called  the  "  Green  Bag  Message."  The 
legislature  referred  it  to  a  joint  committee, 
which  rebuked  the  governor  severely  for 


De  Witt  Clinton  107 

his  presumption,  and  alleged  that  federal  in 
terference  had  never  been  observed  in  any 
state  elections.  This  was  from  the  Buck- 
tail  viewpoint. 

At  the  end  of  his  second  term,  Clinton  was 
again  without  a  party.  The  strongest  man 
in  public  life  in  his  state,  he  was  yet  the 
weakest  man  in  New  York  politics.  He 
had  entered  the  governor's  office  prac 
tically  without  opposition,  in  four  years  his 
friends  advised  him  that  to  be  a  candidate 
again  would  be  futile.  He  was  to  be  let 
down  from  the  heights  of  power  as  quietly 
and  gracefully  as  possible.  A  mass  meeting 
was  held;  he  was  eulogized,  and  a  commit 
tee  appointed  to  ask  him  to  run  again.  As 
had  been  prearranged,  he  refused,  and  ap 
peared  to  retire  voluntarily  to  private  life. 

The  dearest  object  of  his  heart,  the  crea- 
tioiToF  a~p^s^mlil"pai^^  to 

a  man  of  nis  strength  anaweakness."  For  in 
erer^bTencted the  elements  of  strength, 
honesty,  courage,  learning;  and  the  ele 
ments  of  weakness,  vanity,  arbitrariness 
and  intolerance.  The  strength  of  his  char 
acter  was  not  such  as  to  draw  the  politician, 
and  his  weaknesses  were  such  as  repelled 
those  who  could  have  built  for  him  a  party. 
A  party  cannot  exist  without  a  manager, 
a  manipulator.  Clinton  was  too  great  a 
man  to  spend  his  time  in  mere  manipulation, 
and  too  proud  a  man  to  be  manipulated. 

The  Bucktails  had  elected  governor  and 


io8    Five  American  Politicians 

legislature,  carried  city  and  state.  For  a 
second  time  they  had  completely  over 
thrown  their  arch  enemy.  Surely  now  he 
was  vanquished  forever.  In  the  delirium  of 
their  joy  they  resurrected  their  fallen  foe. 
The  only  office  that  now  remained  to  him 
was  that  of  canal  commissioner,  an  office 
with  great  tasks  and  no  pay.  At  the  last 
day  of  the  session  of  1824,  almost  at  the  last 
hour,  the  senate  passed  a  resolution  depos 
ing  DeWitt  Clinton  from  this  office.  There 
were  only  three  votes  recorded  against  the 
motion.  The  resolution  was  rushed  into 
the  house  and  startled  the  astonished  mem 
bers  out  of  their  senses.  A  whirlwind  of  par 
tisan  frenzy  swept  a  majority  of  almost  two- 
thirds  into  line,  and  for  the  first  time  since 
1797,  DeWitt  Clinton  was  without  office. 

In  the  house  only  one  voice  was  raised 
against  the  removal,  but  it- was  the  voice  of 
prophecy,  and  its  utterance  was  the  senti 
ment  of  the  people.  Cunningham,  of  Mont 
gomery  county,  an  uneducated  man,  but  a 
strong  character  whose  heart  nature  had 
warmed  with  love,  and  whose  tongue  had 
been  touched  with  the  gift  of  eloquence, 
made  an  impassioned  and  noble  plea: 

"  I  dare  assert  in  my  place  that  his  doings 
as  a  canal  commissioner  are  unimpeached 
and  unimpeachable,  and  such  as  have  even 
elicited  the  plaudits  and  admiration  of  his 
political  enemies.  This,  then,  is  the  official 
character  of  the  man  whom  we  now  seek  to 


De  Witt  Clinton 109 

destroy.  *  *  *  I  am  well  aware  that 
some  honorable  gentlemen  may  think,  if 
they  vote  against  this  resolution,  they  will 
be  suspected  in  their  politics.  Such  con 
sideration  ought  not  to  influence  us  on  this 
subject.  Mr.  Clinton  is  not  in  the  political 
market,  he  reposes  in  the  shades  of  honor 
able  retirement,  he  asks  for  no  office  and 
possesses  none  but  the  one  of  which  he  is 
about  to  be  stripped. 

"The  senate,  it  appears,  has  been  actu 
ated  by  some  cruel  and  malignant  passion 
unaccounted  for,  and  have  made  a  rush 
upon  this  house  and  have  taken  us  on  sur 
prise.  The  resolution  may  pass,  but  if  it 
does,  my  word  for  it,  we  are  disgraced  in  the 
judgment  and  good  sense  of  an  injured  and 
intelligent  community.  Whatever  the  fate 
of  this  resolution  may  be,  let  it  be  remem 
bered  that  Mr.  Clinton  has  acquired  a  rep 
utation  not  to  be  destroyed  by  the  pitiful 
malice  of  a  few  leading  partisans  of  the  day. 

"When  the  contemptible  party  strife  of 
the  present  day  shall  have  passed  by,  and 
the  political  bargainers  and  jugglers,  who 
now  hang  around  this  capitol  for  a  subsist 
ence,  shall  be  overwhelmed  and  forgotten 
in  their  own  insignificance,  when  the  gentle 
breeze  shall  pass  over  the  tomb  of  that  great 
man,  carrying  with  it  the  just  tribute  of 
honor  and  praise  which  is  now  withheld,  the 
pen  of  the  future  historian,  in  better  days 
and  in  better  times,  will  do  him  justice  and 


no    Five  American  Politicians 

erect  to  his  memory  a  proud  monument  of 
fame,  as  imperishable  as  the  splendid  works 
which  owe  their  origin  to  his  genius  and  per 
severance." 

The  effect  upon  the  people  of  the  removal 
of  their  favorite  hero  was  like  an  electric 
shock.  Their  response  was  as  sudden  and 
lurid  and  destructive  of  the  legislators  as 
a  bolt  of  lightning. 

The  people  of  Albany  rushed  at  once  to 
the  capitol  in  great  throngs,  and  expressed 
their  contempt  for  the  act  and  their  sym 
pathy  with  Clinton.  Their  resolutions  were 
sincere : 

"Resolved,  That  we  have  sought  in  vain 
for  any  palliating  circumstances  to  mitigate 
this  most  glaring  outrage,  and  that  we  can 
only  regard  it  as  the  offspring  of  that  malig 
nant  and  insatiable  spirit  of  political  pro 
scription  which  has  already  so  deeply  stained 
the  annals  of  our  state. 

"Resolved,  That  the  perpetrators  of  this 
act  of  violence  and  ingratitude  are  utterly 
unworthy  of  public  confidence  and  justly 
deserve  the  reprobation  of  an  injured  and 
insulted  community. 

"Resolved,  That  for  the  boldness  with 
which  he  planned,  the  patriotic  devotion 
with  which  he  undertook,  and  the  high  and 
commanding  talents  and  unremitted  ardor 
with  which  he  has  successfully  prosecuted 
a  scheme  of  internal  improvement,  surpass 
ing  in  magnitude  all  that  had  ever  been 


DeWltt  Clinton in. 

conceived  on  this  side  of  the  Atlantic,  and 
no  less  useful  than  it  is  grand,  this  dis 
tinguished  citizen  is  entitled  to  the  admira 
tion,  gratitude  and  the  applause  of  his 
country,  and  especially  the  state  of  New 
York.7' 

These  resolutions  were  conveyed  to  Clin 
ton  by  a  notable  committee  of  citizens. 
The  citizens  in  New  York  city  took  a  similar 
course  to  express  their  disapproval  of  their 
legislature.  The  entire  state  was  aroused. 
The  Bucktails  had  miscalculated.  Instead 
of  differentiating  the  Clintonians  from  the 
newly  organized  People's  Party,  their  rash 
action  amalgamated  sentiment  and  brought 
Clinton  forward  by  universal  demand  as  the 
candidate  for  governor. 

The  People's  Party  had  been  organized  in 
1823  as  an  anti-caucus,  anti-Crawford  party. 
A  convention  was  held  at  Utica  in  Septem 
ber,  1824.  It  was  the  first  state  convention 
composed  entirely  of  delegates  chosen  for 
that  purpose.  No  members  of  the  legisla 
ture  were  ex-officio  delegates.  There  were 
122  delegates.  The  proceedings  were  novel 
and  compared  with  present  day  conven 
tions,  crude  and  simple.  "  The  first  day  was 
spent  in  organizing  and  in  ascertaining  each 
other's  opinions  and  views."  To-day  these 
are  ascertained  before  the  delegates  are  ap 
pointed.  In  the  Utica  convention  this  ex 
change  of  opinions  was  free  and  on  the 
floor  of  the  convention.  To-day  the  utter- 


ii2    Five  American  Politicians 

ances  of  opinions  as  to  candidates  are 
guarded  and  are  expressed  only  in  the  inner 
chambers  of  headquarters.  There  was  some 
opposition  to  Clinton,  and  the  NeVv  York 
city  delegation  withdrew  from  the  conven 
tion  and  named  General  Young  as  their  can 
didate. 

Clinton's  majority  at  the  polls  was  16,906. 
Of  the  eight  senatorial  districts,  he  carried 
six.  Two  years  before  all  had  gone  against 
him.  But  again  Clinton  failed  to  hold  his 
following  together.  Van  Buren  had  formed 
his  "  Albany  Regency/'  a  band  of  shrewd 
and  designing  politicians,  and  they  began 
at  once  to  undermine  Clinton's  strongholds. 
The  governor's  party  in  the  legislature  was 
composed  of  good  men,  honest  enough,  but 
totally  devoid  of  political  sagacity.  Clinton 
himself  would  listen  to  no  advice.  He  said 
he  would  "rather  reign  in  hell  than  serve  in 
heaven!"  His  majorities  were  dashed  to 
fragments  on  the  rocks  of  his  stubborn  will 
fulness.  John  Quincy  Adams,  newly  elected 
President,  offered  him  the  ambassadorship 
to  Great  Britain,  but  Clinton  refused  to 
accept.  In  this  he  made  a  mistake.  He 
was  harboring  ambitions  to  become  Presi 
dent.  This  appointment  would  have  given 
him  a  national  character  and  removed  him 
for  a  time  from  the  personal  antagonists  in 
his  native  state.  His  influential  friends 
urged  him  to  accept,  but  the  petty  men  who 
depended  upon  his  remaining,  flattered  him 


De  Witt  Clinton 


into  the  refusal  by  intimating  that  Adams 
was  jealous  of  his  growing  power  and  wished 
to  banish  him  and  thus  remove  a  rival. 

In  1827  at  a  mass  meeting  in  Steuben- 
ville,  Ohio,  Clinton  was  nominated  for  the 
Presidency  and  Jackson  for  Vice-President. 
A  committee  was  appointed  to  formulate 
an  address  to  the  people  and  to  correspond 
with  other  states.  This  was  a  common 
method  of  starting  a  presidential  boom  in 
those  years.  Clinton  believed  that  in  case 
of  a  deadlock  in  the  election,  he  could  be 
chosen.  He  disliked  Monroe  because  he  was 
a  member  of  the  Virginia  dynasty.  He  mis 
trusted  Adams  because  he  believed  he  had 
bought  the  Presidency  by  bargaining  with 
Clay.  When  he  became  convinced  that  he 
could  not  himself  become  President,  he  fa 
vored  Jackson,  and  hoped  to  become  Vice- 
President. 

The  year  1825  was  one  of  triumph  and 
glory  for  the  veteran  statesman.  He  visited 
Ohio,  Kentucky,  and  Pennsylvania,  and  was 
everywhere  received  with  respect  and  en 
thusiasm  as  the  "Dean  of  Internal  Im 
provements."  And  this  year  witnessed  the 
completion  of  his  greatest  achievement,  the 
Erie  Canal.  From  Buffalo  to  New  York 
city  he  traveled  by  boat  in  triumph,  re 
ceiving  the  congratulations  and  plaudits  of 
the  populace.  The  merchants  of  New  York 
city  presented  him  with  a  costly  pair  of 
silver  vases  in  commemoration  of  the  event, 


ii4    Five  American  Politicians 

and  from  every  city  in  the  Union  came 
congratulatory  messages.  The  history  of 
this  great  canal  has  fully  justified  all  that 
its  wise  projector  had  claimed  for  it.  In 
his  message  to  the  legislature  in  1827  he  an 
nounced  the  final  completion  of  all  the  details 
of  the  canal.  The  amount  of  the  tolls  for  the 
preceding  year  had  been  $770,000,  nearly 
twice  the  amount  of  the  interest  on  the  debt. 
While  thus  the  outer  aspect  of  Clinton's 
career  was  bright,  there  lurked  within  the 
deepening  shadows  of  political  discontent. 
The  Albany  Regency  was  conducting  a 
secret  and  effective  campaign  against  him. 
In  1826  he  was  unanimously  renominated 
in  Utica,  and  Henry  Huntington,  a  banker 
of  prominence  and  worth,  for  lieutenant 
governor.  Despite  a  promise  to  support 
him,  the  Regency  party  held  a  convention 
at  Herkimer,  thus  recognizing  and  estab 
lishing  as  good  form  that  method  of  nomi 
nating  candidates,  and  named  Judge  Ro 
chester  for  governor  and  Nathaniel  Pitcher 
for  lieutenant  governor.  Rochester  was  a 
weak  man,  Pitcher  a  very  able  man.  This 
was  a  trick  of  Van  Buren  to  secure  New 
York  for  Jackson,  by  indirectly  supporting 
Clinton,  and  to  save  the  legislature  for  Van 
Buren  by  electing  a  strong  lieutenant  gov 
ernor.  Clinton  was  elected,  having  been 
supported  in  secret  by  Van  Buren.  His 
majority  was  3,650.  Pitcher  was  also  electr 
ed  by  a  majority  of  4,188. 


De  Witt  Clinton 115 

This  was  his  final  triumph  at  the  polls. 
With  the  advent  of  Jackson  in  national  poli 
tics,  Clinton's  prospects  for  promotion  were 
bright,  for  Jackson  ardently  admired  his 
talents.  A  seat  in  the  cabinet,  the  vice- 
presidency,  and  the  executive  chair  seemed 
within  his  reach.  But  it  was  not  to  be. 
A  promotion  more  enduring  than  that  cre 
ated  by  ambition  or  insured  by  a  partisan 
victory  secured  for  him  a  lasting  place  among 
the  noted  names  of  his  country.  He  died 
in  the  midst  of  the  activities  of  public  office, 
when  the  greatest  of  his  works  was  stream 
ing  commercial  prosperity  through  the  heart 
of  his  native  state,  when  his  fame  was  as 
extended  as  the  causes  he  encouraged,  and 
his  name  was  spoken  with  honor  in  every 
commonwealth  and  known  in  every  progres 
sive  city  of  the  globe. 

On  February  11,  1828,  just  as  he  had 
finished  writing  in  his  diary  and  was  reading 
the  afternoon  mail,  death  stilled  the  heart 
that  had  sustained  so  valiant  a  fighter,  and 
forever  sealed  the  mind  that  had  planned 
so  wisely  for  his  fellowmen.  His  friend, 
Dr.  Hosack,  had  warned  him  of  the  danger 
of  his  malady  some  weeks  before  his  death. 
He  simply  replied:  "I  am  not  afraid  to 
die." 

He  was  among  the  last  of  the  politicians 
who  had  aided  in  the  formation  of  the  first 
political  parties  of  our  country,  and  as  re 
gards  the  practical  effects  on  politics,  was 


n6    Five  American  Politicians 

the  most  potent.  In  his  manipulation  of 
the  Council  of  Appointment  he  planted  the 
se_edlmg_oi_the  Upas  tree  of  American  poli 
tics,  thespQJlfi  ftystpm ;  through  his  antago 
nism  "of  the  Virginia  dynasty  and  the 
Tammany  machine,  he  demolished,  .the 
methods  of  caucus  control  and  inaugurated 
the  convention  plan;  through  his  genius 
he  evolved  an  issue  and  taught  liis  contem 
poraries  the  superiority  of  character  over 
trickery. 

His  career  was  one  of  anomalies,  of  para 
doxes.  In  the  beginning  he  was  the  most 
clever  of  manipulators;  in  the  end  he  had 
utterly  forgotten  the  art  of  intrigue.  The 
boy  politician  grew  into  the  statesman.  A 
strategist  for  his  uncle,  he  could  not  devise 
for  himself.  Ambitious  for  political  power, 
he  was  stone  blind  to  the  strength  of  his 
foe?.  His  victories  were  the  sources  of  his 
weakness. 

"Respected  by  all  the  people,  yet  he  could 
not  draw  to  him  the  politicians  of  his  party. 
He  was  never  defeated  for  an  elective  office, 
except  for  the  Presidency  in  1812.  But  the 
political  leaders  avoided  him.  Even  those 
of  his  own  making  finally  forsook  their  cre 
ator.  He  chose  Morgan  Lewis,  and  made 
him  governor  over  Aaron  Burr.  Lewis 
abandoned  him,  joined  the  Livingstones  and 
intrigued  to  destroy  his  maker.  Out  of  ob 
scurity  he  lifted  Daniel  Tompkins,  schooled 
him  in  the  rudiments  of  politics,  and  started 


De  Witt  Clinton 117 

him  on  the  highway  to  national  eminence. 
And  Tompkins  turned  against  him  all  his 
remarkable  native  powers  and  sought  to 
slay  his  master.  He  discovered  Tennis 
Wortman  and  made  him  a  local  leader  of 
celebrity.  And  Wortman  joined  Tammany 
to  lead  their  unscrupulous  assaults  against 
his  benefactor.  When  Martin  Van  Buren 
first  entered  the  legislature,  he  immediately 
took  up  the  fight  for  Clinton.  Before  the 
year  ended  an  estrangement  began  that  was 
never  healed.  Singular  paradox !  The  man 
whose  character  was  the  object  of  popular 
reverence  could  not  win  one  lasting  political 
leader  of  first  rank. 

He  was  the  victim  of  the  very  arts  he 
pxafiiic:e,d.Qa  his  foes.  He  accused  the  Burr- 
ites  with  favoring  the  Federalists.  They 
hurled  the  charge  back  in  1812.  He  dis- 
comfitted  Governor  Jay  by  using  a  hostile 
Council  of  Appointment.  Van  Buren  served 
him  a  similar  trick.  He  claimed  to  be  the 
Republican  party.  His  opponents  stole  his 
title.  He  organized  a  convention  when  he 
could  not  control  a  caucus.  His  foes  bolted 
his  convention  and  organized  one  of  their  own. 

In  Clinton's  soul  was  fought  the  struggle 
between  politician  and  statesman,  between 
patriot  and  partisan,  between  scholar  and 
boss.  In  him  was  embodied  the  mighty 
struggle  between  idealism  and  realism,  which 
is  to-day  the  paramount  problem  of  Amer 
ican  politics. 


n8    Five  American  Politicians 

He  made  a  great  governor.  Even  without 
his  canal  policy  the  multitude  of  beneficial 
measures  he  inaugurated  would  have  main 
tained  him  at  the  head  of  the  long  list  of 
the  Empire  State's  great  executives.  Sci 
ence,  commerce,  and  philanthropy  were  the 
objects  of  his  solicitude  and  the  prote'ge's 
of  his  genius.  A  study  of  his  contributions 
to  the  laws  of  New  York  and  to  the  official 
iterature  of  the  state  is  a  liberal. education 
in  statecraft.  And  a  "better  administrator 
of  the  laws  never  wielded  executive  power. 
Devoted  throughout  his  life  to  the  services 
of  his  commonwealth,  he  died  a  statesman 
"e£~fltttional  fame.  Very  few  men  have  had 
the  singular  genius  thus  to : '  rige"tcrilatiohal 
eminence  upon  purely  local  issues. 

Nor  is  there,  unfortunately,  any  doubt  of 
the  pettiness  of  his  personal  encounters. 
So  much  of  the  bitter  of  jealously  blended 
with  the  sweet  of  his  talents;  so  many 
shadows  were  flung  by  his  arrogance  across 
the  light  of  his  genius,  that  the  admiration 
of  the  multitude  is  almost  lost  in  the  per 
sonal  hatred  of  his  opponents.  He  was  a 
man  to  be  respected,  not  loved;  to  be  an 
tagonized,  not  opposed.  And  hated  was  he 
with  a  partisan  frenzy  that  did  not  cease 
even  after  his  lifeless  form  had  been  carried 
to  the  tomb. 

He  left  a  very  small  estate,  for  in  serving 
the  state  he  had  neglected  his  fortune.  Nor 
did  it  ever  enter  his  mind  to  profit  by  the 


De  Witt  Clinton 119 

speculations  his  canal  policy  made  pos 
sible.  For  twenty  years  he  had  acted  as  a 
canal  commissioner  witEout  pay.  A  bill  was 
introduced  into  the  legislature  authorizing 
the  payment  to  his  children  of  a  sum  of 
money  equal  to  the  amount  of  the  salary 
of  a  canal  commissioner  during  the  time  of 
his  service  and  one  year's  salary  as  governor 
of  the  state.  This  was  just  and  generous. 
But  the  rage  of  personal  enmity  defeated 
the  measure.  After  a  disgraceful  contro 
versy  the  sum  of  $10,000  was  finally  voted. 
Eleven  years  later  Governor  Seward  in 
his  message  to  the  legislature,  after  a  glow 
ing  tribute  to  DeWitt  Cilnton,  recom 
mended  "that  the  ashes  of  that  illustrious 
citizen  be  deposited  underneath  a  monu 
ment  to  be  erected  in  this  city."  But  a 
decade  had  not  wiped  out  the  prejudices  of 
a  lifetime.  The  monument  was  not  erected. 
This  was  the  last  public  insult  that  Tam 
many  offered  the  memory  of  her  most  val 
iant  foe. 


MARTIN  VAN  BUREN 

NATIONALIZED  OF  THE  MACHINE 


MARTIN  VAN  BUREN 
NATIONALIZER  OF  THE  MACHINE 


IN  1816  there  were  123  members  in  the 
New  York  Assembly;  61  were  Federal 
ists  and  61  were  Republicans  or  Demo 
crats,  and  the  final  place  was  contested 
between  Henry  Fellows,  a  Federalist,  and 
Peter  Allen,  a  Republican,  both  from  On 
tario  County.  In  the  town  of  Pennington 
49  votes  had  been  cast  for  Henry  Fellows. 
These  votes  gave  him  a  majority  of  thirty 
in  his  county.  The  inspectors  of  .elections 
in  Pennington  filed  a  copy  of  his  certificate, 
properly  written  as  Henry  Fellows.  But 
the  duplicate  which  they  filed  with  the 
county  clerk  read,  "Hen.  Fellows."  The 
county  clerk  rejected  the  votes  and  thus 
gave  Allen  a  majority  of  19.  Both  con 
testants  went  to  Albany.  For  a  week  the 
chamber  was  a  scene  of  disgraceful  wran 
gling.  The  Republicans  allowed  Allen  to 
vote  during  the  organization  of  the  house. 
Thus  they  could  elect  a  speaker  j  and  a 
Council  of  Appointment.  After  these  places 
of  advantage  had  been  secured  for  them, 
they  seated  the  Federalist,  Fellows. 

New  York  was  at  this  time  divided  into 
four  senatorial  districts.     In  1817  two  sena- 


124    Five  American  Politicians 

tors  were  to  be  chosen  from  the  western 
district,  one  to  fill  a  vacancy  and  the  other 
for  a  full  term  of  four  vears.  The  two  can 
didates  were  Dr.  Jediah  Prendergast,  a 
Clintonian,  for  the  long  term,  and  Isaac 
Wilson,  a  Bucktail,  for  the  short  term. 
The  law  insisted,  .however,  that  the  candi 
date  having  the  largest  number  of  votes 
should  be  declared  elected  for  the  long  term. 
Wilson  received  1509  votes,  Jediah  Pren- 
dergast  1485  votes,  Jedediah  Prendergast 
91  and  Jed.  Prendergast  10.  Wilson  was 
given  the  certificate  of  election  for  the  four 
year  term.  But  42  electors  were  found  who 
swore  that  they  voted  for  Jedediah,  intend 
ing  to  vote  for  Jediah.  This  would  give 
the  Doctor  the  long  term.  There  could  be 
no  doubt  as  to  the  fairness  of  this  course, 
but  the  Bucktails  were  determined  to  have 
their  man.  Colonel  Young,  the  Bucktail 
champion,  carried  his  Bible  into  the  senate 
chamber  and  quoted  passages  where  both 
names,  Jediah  and  Jedediah,  were  found. 
"Would  the  Bucktails  rebel  against  revela 
tion?" 

In  1818  the  term  of  the  two  senators  from 
the  middle  district  expired.  This  was  a 
Clintonian  district.  Ross,  of  Orange  County, 
a  staunch  Clintonian,  was  a  candidate  for  re 
election.  There  was  a  dispute  between  Otsego 
and  Greene  Counties  as  to  which  should 
name  the  second  candidate.  Otsego's  candi 
date  was  Arumah  Metcalf,  a  Clintonian. 


Martin  Van  Buren  125 

Greene  County  put  forward  Moses  Austin, 
a  Bucktail.  The  counties  left  the  dispute 
to  a  caucus  of  the  members  of  the  legislature 
from  that  district  for  decision.  This  caucus 
was  Clintonian.  The  Bucktails  knew  that 
the  friends  of  Ross  were  fearful  that  if  they 
favored  Otsego  the  other  counties  would 
combine  against  Ross  and  defeat  him.  This 
fear  was  the  wedge  which  the  Bucktails  used 
in  splitting  the  ranks  of  the  Clintonians,  and 
they  succeeded.  Instead  of  two  Clintonian 
senators,  only  one  went  from  the  middle  dis 
trict. 

In  1819,  42  Bucktails  and  49  Clintonians 
were  elected  to  the  house.  The  Bucktails 
were  secretly  advised  to  appear  in  Albany 
at  a  caucus  to  be  held  on  the  evening  before 
the  session  was  to  open.  All  the  Bucktails 
were  present,  while  fifteen  of  the  unsuspect 
ing  Clintonians  were  absent.  The  Buck- 
tails'  candidate  for  speaker,  Thompson,  an 
ardent  Clinton  hater,  was  nominated.  There 
upon  the  Clintonians  withdrew  from  the 
caucus  and  named  German,  who  was  sub 
sequently  elected  by  the  aid  of  the  few  Fed 
eralists  in  the  house.  This  is  what  the 
Bucktails  worked  for.  They  desired  to  make 
the  Clintonians  appear  as  bolters  and  apos 
tates  and  they  would  then  be  the  regulars. 

In  1821  the  instigator  of  all  of  these  petty 
plans,  the  boss  of  the  Bucktails,  the  czar  of 
the  Regency,  was  elected  United  States 
senator,  and  Martin  Van  Buren  transferred 


126    Five  American  Politicians 

the  activities  of  his  political  intriguing  from 
the  narrow  field  of  New  York  politics  to  the 
broad  field  of  national  politics;  he  widened 
the  horizon  of  his  ambition  and  began  the 
careful  campaign  that  in  fifteen  years  placed 
him  at  the  head  of  the  first  compact  national 
political  organization  and  made  him  Presi 
dent. 

Van  Buren  was  born  in  1782  in  Kinder- 
hook-on-the-Hudson.  His  parents  were  of 
Dutch  descent,  the  father  an  easy-going, 
shiftless  tavern-keeper,  the  mother  an  in 
dustrious,  thrifty,  noble  woman.  His  school 
education  was  brief,  he  quitted  the  village 
master  when  fourteen  years  old.  But  his 
mother  trained  him  in  thrift  and  the  tavern 
offered  him,  even  in  childhood,  opportunity 
for  mixing  with  men,  learning  their  weak 
nesses  and  their  strength,  together  with 
their  names  and  their  predilections.  It  was 
this  schooling  that  he  received  at  home, 
more  than  the  schooling  of  books  and  rules, 
that  opened  for  him  the  pathway  to  emi 
nence,  for  Van  Buren  was  above  all  things 
thrifty,  and  he  knew,  beyond  all  others, 
how  to  mingle  with  men  and  gain  their  con 
fidence. 

At  the  age  of  fourteen  he  entered  a  law  office 
and  began  his  seven  years'  apprenticeship  in 
the  law.  The  last  of  these  years  he  passed 
in  New  York  city  in  the  office  of  William  P. 
Van  Ness,  the  confidant  and  lieutenant  of 
Aaron  Burr.  The  impress  of  this  year, 


Martin  Van  Buren  127 

formed  of  associations  with  the  greatest  po 
litical  plotter  of  his  day  and  his  most  trusted 
aide,  was  never  effaced  from  his  life.  His 
whole  political  career  is  flavored  with  Aaron 
Burr. 

Van  Buren  was  not  a  great  lawyer,  but  he 
was  a  very  successful  one.  His'  ability  en 
abled  him  to  make  money,  his  thrift  en 
abled  him  to  save  it.  In  twenty  years  he 
was  possessed  of  a  fortune  valued  at  $200,000, 
a  large  sum  for  that  day.  Lawsuits 
flourished  in  profusion  among  the  patroons 
and  burghers  in  the  Hudson  Valley.  Dam 
age  cases  and  title  contests  abounded  in 
amazing  frequency.  Van  Buren  was  re 
sourceful,  ingenious  and  crafty;  he  was 
well  read,  fluent  and  versatile ;  he  was  above 
all  painstaking  and  industrious,  homety 
virtues  rarely  found  where  cunning  and 
brilliancy  abound.  These  qualities  won  him 
early  fame  at  the  bar,  attracted  to  his  of 
fice  a  rich  clientele,  and  saved  for  him  the 
fortune  that  became  his  mainstay  in  poli 
tics,  and  enabled  him  to  spend  his  declining 
years  in  comfort  and  dignified  ease. 

But  it  was  not  as  a  lawyer  that  Van  Buren 
chose  to  shine.  Circumstances  drew  him 
into  politics,  nature  impelled  him  to  remain. 
For  his  natural  endowments  were  those  of 
a  preeminent  politician.  He  possessed  an 
abiding  good  temper,  which  never  was 
known  to  become  either  sharp  or  dull.  His 
natural  amiability  never  allowed  the  smile 


128    Five  American  Politicians 

to  fade  from  his  lips,  or  the  glad  hand  to  be 
removed  into  his  pockets.  He  was  skilled 
in  intrigue  and  could  plan  successful  cam 
paigns,  whether  for  township,  or  state,  or 
I  national  elections.  He  was  kind-hearted, 
\  and  men  could  not  hate  him,  though  prob- 
s  ably  few  really  loved  him.  He  was  never 
outspoken  on  any  subject  until  the  majority 
had  expressed  an  opinion.  And  finally  he 
had  a  memory  for  names  that  never  failed 
him.  He  could  travel  the  country  over  and 
shake  hands  with  more  people,  mentioning 
their  names,  and  often  the  names  of  their 
families,  than  any  other  man  of  his  day. 
This  is  superlatively  the  politician's  strong 
hold  among  the  masses:  to  shake  a  man's 
hand,  call  him  familiarly  by  name,  smil 
ingly  ask  after  the  welfare  of  wife  and  fam 
ily.  This  trick  of  memory  and  design  is 
quite  as  potent  in  American  politics  as  is 
sues,  or  money,  or  both. 

Before  he  was  old  enough  to  vote.  Van 
Buren  was  a  committeeman,  and  active  in 
the  Republican  factions  of  Columbia  county. 
When  he  was  only  26,  the  Council  of  Ap 
pointment  made  him  surrogate.  Five  years 
later,  in  1813,  he  became  state  senator. 
This  was  a  real  triumph  of  popularity,  be 
cause  his  county  was  a  Federal  stronghold. 
In  1816  Van  Buren  moved  to  Albany.  In 
the  capitol  he  could  better  centralize  his  po 
litical  machine  and  find  a  larger  field  for  his 
profession.  He  was  made  attorney  general 


Martin  Van  Bur  en  129 

in  1815,  and  in  1821  became  United  States 
senator. 

The  very  year  of  his  entrance  into  state 
politics  he  became  a  leader.  Soon  after  his 
advent  in  Albany,  he  forsook  the  Clinton- 
ians  and  joined  the  Bucktails,  and  in  a  few 
years  he  had  perfected  a  compact,  central 
ized  and  obedient  party.  This  party  he 
controlled  through  the  medium  of  a  ring, 
composed  of  his  most  intimate  political 
friends,  and  the  principal  office  holders  at  Al 
bany.  This  group  of  politicians  was  called 
the  "Albany  Regency/'  and  it  became  the 
first  political  ring  to  wield  a  sustained  power 
over  New  York  State  politics.  The  "Reg 
ency"  controlled  patronage,  created  gover 
nors  and  senators,  shaped  campaigns,  made 
and  unmade  local  leaders,  established  news 
papers,  and,  after  the  death  of  its  great  ene 
my,  DeWitt  Clinton,  ruled  the  state  with 
the  absolutism  of  a  czar,  until  the  advent 
of  the  slavery  issue  obliterated  party  lines 
and  dethroned  the  "Regents." 

The  "Regency"  had  lieutenants  in  every 
county  and  captains  in  every  town.  Its 
trusted  agents  kept  the  leaders  constantly 
informed  of  the  political  situation  in  every 
locality  at  all  times.  So  well  disciplined 
was  this  guard  that  a  word  from  Van  Buren 
was  a  command  obeyed  without  question  or 
hesitation.  This  organization  was  sus 
tained  by  the  local  and  federal  patronage 
of  the  state. 


13°    Five  American  Politicians 

Van  Buren  was  the  creator  and  command 
er  of  this  political  combination.  He  did  for 
the  state  what  Burr  did  for  the  city.  When 
he  became  supreme  in  New  York  he  looked 
toward  Washington  for  greater  fields  of  con 
quest.  To  the  senate  he  carried  so  rare  a 
skill  in  maneuvre,  perfected  by  experience, 
that  at  once  he  was  recognized  as  the  polit 
ical  prince  of  the  nation's  capitol. 

When  he  entered  Washington  there  was 
but  one  national  party;  or,  more  accu 
rately,  there  was  no  national  party.  Fed 
eralism  had  been  little  more  than  a  sentiment 
dwelling  in  the  minds  of  the  nationalist, 
but  it  had  never  had  a  national  party  organ 
ization,  as  we  now  use  that  term.  Jeffer- 
sonianism  had  been  a  counter-sentiment 
dwelling  in  the  hearts  of  the  decentraliza- 
tionist,  and  it  had  never  known  compact  po 
litical  discipline.  It  was  the  function  of  the 
first  half  century  of  our  history  to  centralize 
these  sentiments  into  substance,  to  give  pol 
icy  an  embodiment  of  party,  to  endow  the 
spirit  with  flesh  and  with  bones.  After  the 
war  of  1812,  Federalism  was  merely  a  name 
and  Republicanism  or  Democracy  a  ram 
pant  term,  characterizing  all  degrees  of  faith, 
and  all  manner  of  issues.  The  era  of  good 
feeling,  under  Monroe,  was  but  a  fatuation. 
The  hope  expressed  by  Jefferson  and  DeWitt 
Clinton  and  John  Adams,  and  Andrew  Jack 
son,  and  all  prominent  political  personages, 
that  party  walls  should  be  forever  razed,  and 


Martin  Van  Bur  en 


the  people  of  the  republic  dwell  together  in  a 
union  of  sentiment  as  well  as  in  a  union  of 
states,  was  a  vision  seen  only  by  dreamers, 
and  possible  only  in  an  undiscovered  Utopia. 
For  while  Federalism  and  anti-Federalism 
seemed  merged  for  the  moment  in  the 
abounding  feeling  of  fraternity  and  in  the 
unexampled  prosperity  that  succeeded  the 
second  peace  with  England,  they  contained 
the  germs  of  two  political  philosophies  so 
diverse  that  permanent  blending  was  im 
possible.  To  the  feeling  of  nationalism  and 
of  sectionalism,  to  the  faith  of  broad  con 
struction  and  of  loose  construction,  to  the 
aspirations  of  classes  and  of  masses,  there 
came  a  tangible  reality  that  evolved  out  of 
theory  a  practical  aspect  which  must  find  ex 
pression  at  the  polls,  and  alas !  on  the  field  of 
battle.  The  struggle  at  the  polls  was  to  be 
fought  by  non-uniformed  armies,  as  disci 
plined  and  enthusiastic  as  the  armies  that, 
in  blue  and  in  gray,  fought  to  its  bloody 
sequel  the  question  of  the  preeminence  of 
state  or  nation.  These  battles  of  the  bal 
lots  were  fought  with  rancor  and  with  zeal,  by 
partisans  who  were  marshalled  into  line  by 
political  generals,  and  rallied  to  the  charge, 
led  on  by  hope  of  plunder.  Fate  chose  Mar 
tin  Van  Buren  to  be  the  first  general  to  or-  /' 
ganize  and  command  the  first  compact  na 
tional  political  organization. 

The  time  was  propitious.     The  aristoc 
racy  that  had  so  long  controlled  the  offices 


132    Five  American  Politicians 

of  state  and  nation  was  on  the  wane.  A 
great  influx  of  immigration  had  repeopled 
our  cities,  and  filled  the  valley  of  the  upper 
Mississippi  with  a  pioneer  population.  The 
artisan  of  the  city,  the  yeoman  of  the  coun 
try,  the  woodsman  of  the  forest,  was  clam 
oring  for  franchise  and  power.  About  the 
year  1820  a  reaction  set  in  against  the  dy 
nasty  of  Virginia,  the  family  aristocracy  of 
New  York,  the  oligarchy  of  New  England, 
and  the  manorial  rulers  of  the  south.  The 
franchise  restrictions  of  the  old  states  were 
swept  aside  by  new  constitutions,  appoint 
ive  offices  were  made  elective,  qualifications 
for  office  were  lowered;  the  spirit  of  democ 
racy  moved  over  the  troubled  waters  of 
American  politics. 

The  era  of  good  feeling  came  to  an  abrupt 
close  in  1824.  Who  should  be  Monroe's 
successor?  There  were  no  issues.  There 
were  personalities.  John  Quincy  Adams, 
erudite,  puritanic,  better  trained  for  the 
place  than  was  any  other  American  who  had 
ever  received  the  vote  of  the  people,  was 
elected  president  bjT  the  House  of  Repre 
sentatives  after  a  fierce  contest  of  ill  feeling, 
which  had  completely  obliterated  all  traces 
of  the  good  feeling  that  had  preceded.  Clay 
was  the  real  victim  of  this  campaign,  for 
the  cry  of  "bargain  and  corruption"  fol 
lowed  him  to  his  tomb,  and  prevented  the 
realization  of  his  highest  hope.  Jackson, 
Stung*  by  defeat,  was  only  spurred  to  re- 


Martin  Van  Bur  en  133 

doubled  energy.  He  had  received  more 
votes  than  any  other  candidate,  and  was 
therefore  the  people's  choice.  This  was  his 
plea,  and  it  was  the  argument  of  a  true  dem 
ocrat.  Crawford,  the  fourth  man  in  that 
memorable  contest,  was  incapacitated  for 
service  by  disease. 

The  wounds  of  this  fight  were  never 
healed.  The  great  personalities  that  led  in 
the  campaign  were  made  the  rallying  points 
of  definite  issues,  and  in  the  travail  of  this 
bitter  struggle  were  brought  forth  the  em 
bryonic  forces  which,  within  one  short  pres 
idential  term,  were  organized  into  our  first 
national  parties. 

This  was  Van  Buren's  time.  He  met  the 
opportunity  with  an  adroitness,  a  foresight, 
that  is  astounding.  He  laid  the  plans  for 
his  own  advancement  so  carefully  and  wove 
them  into  the  tissue  of  his  party  with  such 
skill  that  he  stands  isolated  among  Ameri 
can  politicians  for  his  prescience  and  pa 
tience. 

In  the  first  place,  Van  Buren  measured 
the  power  of  the  populace.  He  knew  that 
the  restless  spirit  of  democracy  would  burst 
the  bonds  of  conventionalism  and  sweep  the 
stilted  remnants  of  English  custom  and 
tradition  from  the  capitol.  He  heard  the 
first  faint  murmur  of  the  westerners  asking 
for  place,  impatient  of  the  domination  of 
the  coast  states.  He  knew  this  would  be  an 
ever-rising  murmur  until  the  clamor  there- 


134    Five  American  Politicians 

of  would  roll  from  the  Mississippi  Valley  to 
the  Appalachians,  and  fill  the  land  with  its 
resounding  demands.  He  led  in  the  trium 
phant  shout  that  proclaimed  the  entrance 
of  Andrew  Jackson  into  power,  the  first  real 
democrat,  and  the  greatest  autocrat. 

He  knew,  in  the  second  place,  that  this  free 
spirit  of  the  frontier  must  have  a  candidate, 
an  idol,  who  must  be  its  incarnation.  The 
candidate  must  be  a  personage  within  whose 
personality  could  abide  all  the  virtues  of 
democracy,  and  all  its  foibles;  hatred  of 
form,  disregard  for  tradition,  adoration  for 
decentralization,  passion  for  socializing  gov 
ernment,  worship  of  laissez  faire.  The  can 
didate  must  also  be  picturesque,  for  the 
spirit  of  the  great  people  is  imaginative, 
rather  than  practical;  the  unusual  appeals 
to  it.  The  candidate  must  be  a  hero.  The 
commonplace  of  statesmanship,  of  daily 
administrative  routine,  does  not  touch  the 
love  or  the  hatred  of  the  masses.  Daily 
duty  cannot  call  to  them  with  inviting 
accents,  but  the  voice  of  heroic  action  se 
cures  immediate  response.  And  this  hero 
must  be  a  martyr.  The  people,  like  a  love 
lorn  maid,  love  to  pour  out  their  sympathy 
over  the  victim  of  a  political  plot.  The 
Hero  of  New  Orleans  was  the  personage  who 
possessed  in  rich  degree  all  these  qualifica 
tions.  He  was  picturesque,  the  embodi 
ment  of  the  frontier  spirit;  he  was  brave, 
the  victor  over  Indians  and  English ;  he  was 


Martin  Van  Buren  135 

a  martyr,  the  victim  of  Calhoun's  jealousy 
and  Clay's  coalition. 

And,  in  the  third  place,  Van  Buren  knew  the 
value  of  the  spoils  system  as  the  cement  to 
hold  together  the  structure  of  his  party.  He 
had  been  schooled  in  the  arts  of  Burr,  and 
had  grown  skilled  in  the  management  of 
the  Regency  and  the  caucus.  He  was  a  mas 
ter  in  the  science  of  office  distribution. 

His  entrance  into  national  politics,  I  have 
said,was  at  an  opportune  time  for  the  display 
of  his  singular  talents.  In  the  great  struggle 
for  the  presidency,  of  1824,  he  espoused 
the  cause  of  Crawford,  a  citizen  of  Georgia, 
a  politician  of  great  skill,  and  a  statesman  of 
no  mean  experience.  In  thus  taking  the  part 
of  Crawford,  Van  Buren  saw  he  would  not 
jeopardize  his  influence  with  Clay  nor  his 
friendship  with  Jackson.  For  it  was  apparent 
from  the  outset  that  Crawford  could  not 
reach  the  White  House.  There  was  a  strong 
sentiment  in  New  York  for  Adams,  in  1824. 
The  Regency  had  no  use  for  the  Puritan, 
because  he  would  not  make  use  of  the  Reg 
ency.  He  was  not  a  spoilsman. 

The  congressional  caucus,  now  utterly 
discredited  by  those  who  could  not  control  it, 
nominated  Crawford.  Out  of  261  mem 
bers  of  Congress,  only  66  attended,  and  of 
these  62  voted  for  Crawford.  So  utterly 
was  the  ring  under  the  domination  of  the 
boss,  that  the  people  contemptuously  re 
jected  its  candidate. 


136    Five  American  Politicians 

Van  Buren  began  in  1825  to  plan  for  the 
election  of  Jackson.  He  knew  that  to  in 
troduce  Jackson  sentiment  too  early  in  New 
York  would  be  fatal  to  the  cause.  All  ef 
fusiveness  for  the  hero  was  stilled.  No  one 
nominee  was  publicly  espoused.  All  were 
to  be  encouraged  until  the  day  for  the  pro- 
nunciamento  should  arrive,  then  the  Reg 
ency  was  to  marshal!  the  hosts  of  the  com 
mon  people,  Van  Vuren  was  to  wave  his 
plumed  helmet  over  his  head,  and  become 
the  Navarre  of  the  masses. 

Jackson  had  written  a  letter  to  Monroe, 
in  the  days  of  fellowship,  saying  that  since 
there  was  no  longer  any  difference  between 
Federalists  and  Republicans,  all  appoint 
ments  should  be  made  on  merit  alone.  This 
inclined  the  Federal  remnants  toward  the 
Hero.  Little  did  they  foresee  how  the  taste 
of  power  would  transform  this  gentle  spirit 
of  non-partisanship  into  a  violent  political 
temper. 

In  1827  Van  Buren  was  reflected  to  the 
United  States  senate.  The  Clintonians  tried 
to  defeat  him  and  elect  a  friend  of  Adams. 
But  the  Regency  showed  that  their  adroit 
and  oily  boss  "  has  not  counted  for  or  against 
either  of  the  presidential  candidates. "  The 
straddle  was  successful,  both  for  the  Sen 
ator  and  the  Hero.  In  his  letter  to  the  legis 
lature  acknowledging  the  honor,  Van  Buren 
said  it  would  be  his  "  constant  and  zealous 
endeavor  to  protect  the  remaining  rights 


Martin  Van  Bur  en  137 

reserved  to  the  state  by  the  federal  consti- 
tion;  to  restore  those  of  which  they  have 
been  divested  by  construction,  and  to  pro 
mote  the  interests  and  honor  of  our  country." 
This  is  state  rights,  anti-Federal,  demo 
cratic  to  the  heart. 

But  the  mask  of  non-committalism  that 
won  the  Adams  men  in  the  legislature  was 
put  aside  immediately  after  it  had  served 
its  purpose,  and  the  cause  of  Jackson  was 
espoused  with  great  vehemence. 

The  majority  for  "Old  Hickory"  was 
overwhelming.  On  the  same  high  tide  of 
Democracy,  VanBuren  was  swept  into  the 
governor's  chair,  although  with  majorities 
much  below  those  of  the  President.  The 
anti-Masons  polled  33,335  votes  in  New 
York  for  their  candidate  for  governor,  and 
this  reduced  Van  Buren's  majority  to  merely 
nominal  figures.  But  Van  Buren  did  not 
want  to  remain  governor.  He  sought  the 
office  only  for  the  prestige  and  glory  it  would 
bring.  He  had  an  understanding  that  his 
reward  in  laboring  so  skilfully  to  bring  New 
York  to  Jackson  would  be  a  cabinet  office. 
He  resigned  his  seat  in  the  United  States 
senate  to  become  the  governor  of  New  York; 
he  resigned  the  governor's  chair  to  become 
secretary  of  state,  all  within  three  months. 
This  was  rapid  promotion. 

Van  Buren  chose  as  his  successor  in  the 
senate  Charles  E.  Dudley,  a  mediocre  man, 
"not  distinguished  for  vigorous  mental 


138    Five  American  Politicians 

powers,"  and  who  would  do  the  exact  bid 
ding  of  his  political  creator. 

Triumphant  Democracy  entered  the  na 
tion's  capitol  with  its  Hero.  Frontiersmen, 
farmers,  hunters,  scouts,  clad  in  the  regalia  of 
their  daily  tasks,  mingled  in  picturesque 
confusion  in  the  nation's  city.  They  came  by 
the  thousands,  they  filled  the  capitol,  they 
swarmed  to  the  White  House,  they  crowded 
the  streets,  they  were  universal.  On  the 
day  of  the  inauguration  they  hailed  their 
first  President  with  shouts  of  triumph.  John 
Quincy  Adams,  in  his  diary,  says  that  Jack 
son  let  them  use  the  White  House  parlors  as 
a  taproom,  and  that  the  floors  were  flooded 
with  the  overflow  of  whisky  brought  from 
Kentucky  and  western  Pennsylvania;  that 
the  conquerors  were  conquered  by  brandy 
drunk  from  tin  cups  and  drawn  directly  from 
the  bunghole,  and  that  they  stretched  them 
selves  on  the  White  House  floors  until  their 
drunken  stupor  had  passed  off.  But  Adams 
was  a  prejudiced  witness  and  got  his  tale 
by  hearsay. 

But  these  Huns  did  proclaim  their  Attila 
in  a  saturnalia  of  wild  delight;  they  did  drive 
from  Washington  the  disorganized  rem 
nants  of  ancient  Federalism ;  they  did  snatch 
the  bank  of  the  nation  from  the  hands  of 
its  protectors  and  throw  it  to  the  "  wildcats ; " 
they  did  oust  Federal  officers  by  the  hun 
dreds,  only  to  make  place  for  their  own 


Martin  Van  Bur  en  139 

numbers;  they  did  levy  war  on  national  rights 
and  on  John  Marshall,  the  upholder  of  nation 
alism  on  the  supreme  bench;  they  did  write 
"  Rotation  in  office  "  on  the  banners  of  their 
party  hosts :  these  and  many  more  things  they 
did,  during  the  reign  of  the  first  Democrat. 
The  administration  had  started  its  radical 
course  when  the  new  secretary  of  state  ar 
rived.  He  soon  discerned  that  peace  within 
the  cabinet  could  not  be  maintained.  The 
wife  of  Eaton,  secretary  of  war,  was  under 
a  social  ban.  The  gallantry  of  Jackson 
rushed  to  her  rescue.  The  cabinet  ladies 
refused  to  call  on  her.  Van  Buren  was  a 
widower  and  had  no  daughters.  He  was  not 
embarrassed  by  the  delicacy  of  the  situa 
tion  and  paid  the  usual  social  attentions  to 
Mrs.  Eaton.  This  redoubled  the  attachment 
the  President  had  formed  for  his  premier. 
The  jealousy  of  Calhoun  completed  the  rup 
ture  in  the  cabinet.  The  growing  popular 
ity  and  power  of  Van  Buren  made  the  Phil 
osopher  of  South  Carolina  fear  lest  he  should 
be  pushed  aside  as  the  successor  of  Jackson. 
The  President  discovered  that  Calhoun 
while  a  member  of  Monroe's  cabinet,  favored 
the  recalling  of  General  Jackson  from  the 
Florida  frontier  and  placing  him  in  the  hands 
of  a  court  martial.  All  the  violence  of 
Jacksonian  wrath  was  hurled  at  the  head 
of  Calhoun,  and  he  resigned  from  the  cabi 
net.  The  Presidency  was  from  that  mo 
ment  forever  beyond  his  reach. 


14°    Five  American  Politicians 

Van  Buren  was  the  political  manager  of 
the  President  and  of  the  cabinet.  In  1830 
the  congressional  caucus  resolved  that  Jack 
son  should  have  a  second  term.  Jackson 
had  said,  in  1828,  that  he  would  take  only 
one  term,  and  had  even  recommended  a 
constitutional  amendment  forbidding  the 
reelection  of  a  President.  But  Van  Buren 
was  now  manipulating  the  machine  behind 
the  scenes.  Van  Buren  was  to  be  Jackson's 
successor.  He  could  not  have  his  party 
machine  perfected  in  1832,  therefore  it  was 
necessary  to  give  "Old  Hickory"  one  more 
term.  By  early  endorsement  of  Jackson,  he 
would  cut  off  both  competition  and  jeal 
ousy — competition  against  Jackson  and 
jealousy  against  himself,  lest  he  be  accused 
of  trying  to  become  President  at  the  end  of 
Jackson's  first  term.  Calhoun  was  looked 
upon  by  the  people  as  the  natural  successor 
to  Jackson.  He  had  favored  Jackson  above 
Adams  as  Monroe's  successor.  But  the 
break-up  of  the  cabinet  had  abruptly  ended 
Calhoun's  chances. 

Van  Buren  was  now  supreme  in  his  com 
mand  of  the  party  hosts  and  his  machine 
was  now  nationalized.  He  had  dictated 
federal  New  York  state  appointments  since 
his  entrance  into  the  senate  in  1821.  He 
now  advised  the  President  on  all  prominent 
national  appointments.  He  had  introduced 
the  New  York  system  of  rotation  in  office 
into  the  national  service,  and  the  first  year 


Martin  Van  Buren  141 

of  the  administration  saw  690  officers  re 
moved  to  make  way  for  Democrats  of  the 
reigning  school;  a  greater  number  by  three 
times    than    all    the    Presidents    preceding 
Jackson  had  dismissed.     In  every  state,  city 
and  hamlet  he  had  appointed  trusted  agents 
to  look  after  the  interests  of  the  party.      He 
had  created  a  " Kitchen  Cabinet"   into   a 
national    "  Regency,"    and     enthroned     it 
over    patronage    and    policy.       He     had 
paved    the    way    for    a   second    term  for 
Jackson    and    made    himself    heir    appar 
ent  to    the    throne.     He    had    studiously 
avoided     all     direct    issues     that     would 
involve  him  in  entangling  alliances  with  sen- 
timent  or  conviction.     He  had  taken  sides 
\  only  with  the  majority.     He  had  fastened 
;  himself,  through  artless  guile,  courtly  de- 
;  meanor,  and  skilful  intrigue  upon  the  good 
\will  of  his  chief.     And  finally  he  had  put 
\aside  his  only  competitor  for  first  honors, 
Calhoun,  by  making  him  the  open  enemy 
of  Jackson. 

One  thing  yet  remained.  He  was  known 
principally  as  a  politician.  He  needed  the 
halo  of  national  service  to  complete  his 
fitness  for  a  niche  in  the  gallery  of  Presi 
dents.  A  mere  politician  could  not  hope 
to  become  President,  even  though  he  had 
behind  him  the  strongest  political  organiza 
tion  the  country  had  known.  Nor  could,  in 
those  days,  an  unknown  man  be  picked  up 
by  a  coterie  of  political  schemers  and  hoisted 


I42    Five  American  Politicians 

to  the  Presidency.  VanBuren's  own  meth 
ods  made  this  possible  some  years  later  to 
his  own  degradation.  It  is  a  true  revelation 
of  the  character  of  Van  Buren  and  his  arts 
that  seven  years  as  United  States  senator 
and  three  years  as  secretary  of  state  had  not 
given  him  sufficient  prominence  to  make  him 
appear  to  the  people  of  the  Union  as  a  na 
tional  character.  Van  Buren  worked  behind 
the  scenes. 

He  now  found  a  way  to  nationalize  him 
self.  Jackson  approved  of  it.  In  1831  he 
resigned  from  the  cabinet  and  was  at  once 
appointed  ambassador  to  the  court  of  St. 
James.  His  appointment  took  place  during 
a  congressional  recess.  On  reconvening  the 
senate  refused  to  affirm  the  appointment. 
The  debate  on  the  rejection  lasted  three 
months.  It  is  the  most  notable  case  in  our 
history  of  the  refusal  of  the  senate  to  concur 
with  the  executive  in  the  appointment  of 
a  foreign  ambassador.  The  ostensible  rea 
son  for  the  unusual  action  of  the  senate  was 
the  instructions  Van  Buren  as  secretary  of 
state  had  given  to  his  predecessor  in  Lon 
don,  McLane,  pertaining  to  the  attitude  of 
the  Jackson  administration  on  the  collection 
of  certain  American  claims  against  Great 
Britain.  These  instructions  were  made  to 
appear  undignified  and  compromising. 

But  the  true  reason  for  this  unusual  action 
was  political.  Webster  refused  to  vote  for 
the  nomination  because  he  thought  Van 


Martin  Van  Bur  en  143 

Buren  had  appointed  himself  to  the  place, 
and  closed  his  speech  as  follows:  "Mr. 
President,  I  have  discharged  an  exceedingly 
unpleasant  duty,  the  most  unpleasant  of  my 
public  life.  But  I  have  looked  upon  it  as  a 
duty,  and  it  was  not  to  be  shunned.  And, 
sir,  however  unimportant  may  be  the  opinion 
of  so  humble  an  individual  as  myself,*  I  now 
only  wish  thaTTlmghtrim~irea^-b3r  every 
independent  freeman  in  the  United  States, 
by  the  British  minister  and  the  British  king, 
and  by  every  minister  and  every  crowned 
head  of  Europe,  while  standing  here  in  my 
place,  I  pronounce  my  rebuke,  as  solemnly 
and  as  decisively  as  I  can,  upon  this  first 
instance,  in  which  an  American  minister 
has  been  sent  abroad  as  the  representative  of 
his  party  and  not  as  the  representative  of  his 
country. " 

-~Upon  the  same  subject  Clay  said:  "I be 
lieve  upon  circumstances  which  satisfy  my 
mind  that  to  this  gentleman  is  to  be  princi 
pally  ascribed  the  introduction  of  the  odious 
system  of  proscription  for  the  exercise  of  the 
the  elective  franchise  in  the  government  of 
of  the  United  States.  I  understand  that  it  is 
the  system  on  which  the  party  in  his  own  state, 
of  which  he  is  the  reputed  head,  constantly 
acts.  He  was  among  the  first  of  the  secre 
taries  to  apply  that  system  to  the  dismission 
of  clerks  of  his  department,  known  to  me 
to  be  highly  meritorious,  and  one  of  them 
is  now  a  representative  in  the  other  house. 


144    Five  American  Politicians 

It  is  a  detestable  system,  drawn  from  the 
worst  period  of  the  Roman  Republic,  and  if 
it  were  to  be  perpetuated,  if  the  offices,  honors 
and  dignities  of  the  people  were  to  be  put 
to  a  scramble  to  be  decided  by  the  result  of 
every  presidential  election,  our  government 
and  institutions,  becoming  intolerable,  would 
finally  end  in  a  despotism  as  inexorable  as 
that  at  Constantinople. 

"Sir,  the  necessity  under  which  we  are 
placed  is  painful,  but  it  is  no  fault  of  the 
senate,  whose  consent  and  advice  are  re 
quired  by  the  constitution  to  consummate 
this  appointment,  that  the  minister  has  been 
sent  out  of  the  United  States  without  their 
concurrence.  I  hope  the  public  will  not  be 
prejudiced  by  his  rejection,  if  he  should  be 
rejected;  and  I  feel  perfectly  asssured  that 
if  the  government  to  which  he  has  been  de 
puted  shall  learn  that  he  has  been  rejected 
because  he  has,  by  his  instructions  to  Mr. 
McLane,  stained  the  character  of  our  coun 
try,  the  moral  effect  of  our  decision  will 
greatly  outweigh  any  advantage  to  be  de 
rived  from  his  negotiations  whatever  they 
may  have  been  intended  to  be." 

To  this  criticism,  Marcy,  senator  from 
New  York,  the  friend  and  political  intimate 
of  Van  Buren,  hastened  to  reply  and  left  on 
record  for  all  subsequent  time  the  story  of 
the  beginning  of  the  national  spoils  system. 
Alluding  to  Clay's  attack  upon  the  New  York 
system  of  robber  politics,  Marcy  replied  that 


Martin  Van  Buren  145 

Kentucky  practiced  the  same  system,  that 
Van  Buren  did  not  originate  it  in  New  York, 
and  that  Jackson's  wholesale  proscriptions 
were  justified.  "I  fear  the  gentleman  does 
not  sufficiently  consider  the  peculiar  circum 
stances  under  which  the  present  administra 
tion  came  into  power.  General  Jackson  did 
not  come  in  under  the  same  circumstances 
that  Mr.  Adams  did,  or  Mr.  Monroe.  His 
accession  was  like  that  of  Jefferson.  He 
came  in,  sir,  upon  a  political  revolution. 
The  contest  was  without  parallel.  Much 
political  bitterness  was  engendered,  crimina 
tions  and  recriminations  were  made.  When 
the  present  chief  magistrate  took  upon  him 
self  the  administration  of  the  government, 
he  found  almost  all  the  offices,  from  the 
highest  to  the  lowest,  filled  by  political  ene 
mies.  That  his  cabinet  was  composed  of 
his  friends,  no  one  will  complain.  The  rea 
sons  for  thus  composing  it  will  apply  with 
considerable  force  to  many  of  the  officers 
under  the  heads  of  the  several  departments. 
"  It  may  be,  sir,  that  the  politicians  of  the 
United  States  are  not  so  fastidious  as  some 
gentlemen  are  as  to  disclosing  the  principles 
on  which  they  act.  They  boldly  preach 
what  they  practice.  When  they  are  con 
tending  for  victory,  they  claim  their  inten 
tions  of  enjoying  the  fruits  of  it.  If  they 
are  defeated,  they  expect  to  retire  from 
office.  If  they  are  successful,  they  claim, 
as  a  matter  of  right,  the  advantages  of  suc- 


10 


146    Five  American  Politicians 

cess.  They  see  nothing  ivrong  in  the  rule  that 
to  the  victor  belong  the  spoils  of  the  enemy." 

The  subject  of  this  remarkably  frank  para 
graph  is  not  "some  gentlemen"  but  "the 
politicians." 

Clay  replied:  "The  gentleman  from  New 
York  [Mr.  Marcy]  supposes  in  adverting  to 
the  practice  of  proscription,  which  I  under 
stand  prevailed  with  the  dominant  party  in 
his  state,  that  I  had  reflected  upon  the  char 
acter  of  that  state.  And  he  alleges  that  the 
practice  had  existed  for  thirty  years  with 
every  dominant  party  and  was  rigorously 
exercised  many  years  ago  by  my  friends. 
Nothing  was  farther  from  my  intention  than 
to  reflect  in  the  smallest  degree  upon  that 
powerful  and  respectable  state.  But  I  must 
pronounce  my  abhorrence  of  the  practice  to 
which  I  allude,  no  matter  with  whom  it 
originated,  whether  friend  or  foe,  or  by 
whom  it  may  be  continued.  It  has  been 
carried  by  the  present  administration  to  a 
most  odious  extent  in  Kentucky.  Almost 
every  official  incumbent  who  voted  against 
the  present  chief  magistrate  and  who  was 
within  the  executive's  reach  has  been  hurled 
from  office,  whilst  those  who  voted  for  him 
have  been  retained,  no  matter  how  long  they 
had  been  in  their  stations.  It  is  not  prac 
ticed  in  Kentucky  by  the  state  government 
when  in  the  hands  of  the  opposition  to  this 
administration.  Governor  Metcalf  e  lately  ap 
pointed  a  political  opponent  to  a  high  office." 


Martin  Van  Buren 147 

This  first  defense  of  the  spoils  system  was 
complete.  Marcy's  brutal  candor  has  never 
been  excelled.  His  statement  of  the  phil 
osophy  of  the  spoils  politician  is  perfect. 
Three  quarters  of  a  century  of  development 
has  not  improved  upon  it.  He  admitted 
that  to  Van  Buren  and  Jackson  and  all  their 
myrmidons,  politics  was  war  upon  the  public 
purse,  that  the  people  were  victims,  that 
their  goods  and  their  rights  and  their  safety 
were  "spoils"  which  legitimately  belonged 
to  the  "victor."  Strangely,  the  people  be 
lieved  Marcy  rather  than  Clay. 

The  vote  in  the  senate  was  purposely  inade 
a  tie  by  the  pre-arranged  absence  of  a  number 
of  anti-Jacksonians  so  that  Calhoun,  as 
president  of  the  senate,  might  taste  sweet 
revenge  on  his  bitter  foe  by  casting  the  de 
ciding  vote. 

Van  Buren  was  recalled.  The  people  re 
ceived  him,  not  as  a  rebuked  spoilsman,  but 
as  a  martyr  to  political  jealousy.  Democ 
racy  was  in  ferment  in  every  state.  The 
New  York  legislature,  on  the  instigation  of 
Van  Buren  himself,  sent  a  letter  to  Jackson 
extolling  their  leader.  They  had  "cheer 
fully  acquiesced  in  the  removal  and  had 
freely  surrendered  their  most  distinguished 
follow  citizen,"  and  assured  the  President 
that  "the  state  of  New  York  is  capable  in 
itself  in  avenging^  the  indignity  thus  offered 
to  its  character,  in  the  person  of  its  favorite 


148    Five  American  Politicians 

The  friends  of  the  rejected  minister  made 
the  most  of  their  opportunity,  and  paraded 
their  chieftain  as  a  martyr  and  hero.  The 
citizens  of  New  York  said  that  "the  occur 
rence  will  leave  no  other  impression  than 
that  the  arrow  has  fallen  far  from  its  mark, 
and  that  the  subject  at  which  it  was  aimed 
stands  unscathed  and  unhurt."  Young 
men's  political  clubs  sent  him  long  and 
lachrymose  letters.  Every  Democratic  or 
ganization  in  county  and  city  passed  reso 
lutions  condemning  the  action.  Van  Buren 
answered  every  one  of  these  communica 
tions.  He  craftily  suited  style  and  senti 
ment  to  the  locality  and  the  people  to  whom 
he  wrote.  He  was  stilted,  flattering,  non 
committal,  obeisant.  He  made  a  splendid 
martyr.  He  relates  in  these  epistles  how 
he  has  been  "wounded  to  the  quick  while 
absent  from  home  and  exerting  himself  so 
arduously  for  his  country." 

Skilfully  and  universally  was  this  humili 
ation  of  Van  Buren  made  the  means  of  his 
elevation.  Instead  of  degrading  him,  the 
Whigs  exalted  him. 

The  first  national  convention  of  the  Demo 
cratic  party  was  held  in  Baltimore  May  21, 
1832.  The  people  had  already  chosen 
Jackson  for  renomination.  The  politicians 
now  chose  Van  Buren  for  second  place,  con 
fident  that  he  would  be  swept  into  power 
by  the  same  hurricane  of  fervor  that  would 
destroy  the  enemies  of  the  bank.  In  their 


Martin  Van  Buren  149 

convention  they  adopted  no  platform  but 
recommended  that  in  each  state  the  issues 
most  suited  to  the  locality  be  presented. 
They  hoped  to  get  the  vote  of  eastern  Demo 
crats  that  favored  the  bank  and  of  western 
states  that  asked  federal  aid  for  internal  im 
provements.  They  were  at  the  same  mo 
ment-strict  constructionists  in  the  east  and 
loose  constructionists  in  the  west.  Under 
the  elastic  code  of  Jacksonianism  they  could 
be  both  Whig  and  Democrat.  Into  this 
non-committal  policy  their  non-committal 
candidate  for  Vice-President  fitted  snugly. 
Jackson  was  the  real  issue  and  Clay  the  an 
tagonist.  Van  Buren  was  a  passive  letter 
writer,  a  figurehead.  The  people  gave  219 
electoral  votes  to  their  Hero  and  only  49  to 
their  Idol. 

Van  Buren's  ambition  was  no  secret.  He 
not  only  entered  the  senate  chamber  as  pre 
siding  officer,  but  as  a  candidate  for  the  suc 
cession.  Jackson  had  so  willed  and  daily 
held  counsel  with  his  intimate  friend;  the 
politicians  had  so  decreed  and  perfected  the 
machinery  that  was  to  carry  out  their  wish; 
Van  Buren  had  so  planned  for  twenty  years 
and  guarded  his  words  and  deeds  that  he 
might  avoid  all  offence.  Why  need  the 
people  be  asked  when  such  a  unanimity  of 
decision  prevailed?  The  people  were  not 
asked.  When  politicians  forget  to  reckon 
with  the  people,  they  plan  their  own  de 
struction.  Machine  success  is  only  tempo- 


150    Five  American  Politicians 

rary,  and  the  builder  of  this  machine  was 
•'  the  creator  of  his  own  destruction. 

For  four  years  Van  Buren  posed  as  a  can 
didate.  He  was  duly  named  in  May,  1835, 
in  the  second  national  democratic  conven 
tion  at  Baltimore.  In  this  convention  sat 
over  500  delegates  from  twenty-three  states. 
Maryland  sent  183,  Tennessee  one.  But 
each  delegation  had  only  as  many  votes  as 
its  state  had  in  the  electoral  college.  The 
convention  plan  had  not  yet  received  unan 
imous  sanction,  and  the  president  of  this 
convention,  Andrew  Stevenson  of  Virginia, 
devoted  most  of  his  speech  to  an  apology  of 
the  convention  plan  and  showing  its  superi 
ority  over  the  congressional  caucus.  There 
was  no  "  keynote,"  no  platform,  no  set  of  reso 
lutions,  and  the  two-thirds  rule  of  the  pre 
ceding  convention  was  again  adopted. 

The  south  offered  its  opposition  feebly  to 
the  convention's  choice.  Calhoun  could  not 
forgive.  Soon  after  the  rupture  in  Jack 
son's  first  cabinet,  Calhoun  was  dined  in 
Pendleton,  S.  C.  The  usual  toast  to  the 
President  was  omitted  and  one  was  drunk 
to  Martin  Van  Buren,  with  this  sentiment: 
"Oh,  that  deceit  should  steal  such  gentle 
shapes  and  with  a  virtuous  visor  hide  deep 
vices." 

In  the  convention,  however,  there  was  little 
opposition  to  him.  It  was  a  program  con 
vention.  Every  delegate  had  been  pledged 
before  he  was  seated,  and  a  motion  to  pro- 


Martin  Fan  Bur  en  151 

ceed  to  a  nomination  was  received  with  a 
sarcastic  smile.  But  in  the  south  after  the 
convention  the  opposition  was  bitter.  Van 
Burenwas  derided  as  "secret, sly, selfish,  cold, 
calculating,  distrustful,  treacherous."  Davy 
Crockett  wrote  a  biography  of  the  candidate 
full  of  coarse  frontier  humor,  in  which  Van 
Buren  was  declaimed  "as  opposite  to  Gen. 
Jackson  as  dung  is  to  a  diamond."  And  Cal- 
houn  described  the  Van  Buren  men  as  "a 
powerful  faction  (party  it  cannot  be  called) 
held  together  by  the  hopes  of  public  plunder 
and  marching  under  the  banner  whereon  is 
written  Ho  the  victors  belong  the  spoils.'  ' 

Van  Buren  accepted  the  nomination  in  a 
rambling,  inane  letter.  The  campaign  of 
18  months  dragged  on,  disorderly,  desultory, 
disheartening.  The  western  Whigs  named 
the  unknown  William  Henry  Harrison,  the 
New  England  Whigs  their  favorite  Webster, 
and  the  southern  defection  named  Senator 
Whiting  of  Tennessee,  a  dignified,  able  and 
popular  statesman. 

The  slavery  issue  now  first  made  its  ap 
pearance  in  national  politics.  The  abo 
litionists  began  their  crusade  of  clamor. 
Van  Buren  was  asked  by  a  committee  from 
North  Carolina :  "Do  you  or  do  you  not  be 
lieve  that  congress  has  the  constitutional 
power  to  interfere  with  or  abolish  slavery 
from  the  District  of  Columbia?  "  To  which 
he  answered  at  great  length,  and  in  equiv 
ocal  terms,  that  congress  could  not  interfere 


i52    Five  American  Politicians 

with  slavery  in  the  states,  and  that  it  better 
not  in  the  District. 

However,  before  election  the  "non-com 
mittal  "  candidate  did  write  a  letter  in  which 
he  for  once  came  out  squarely  and  ably 
against  the  bank,  for  the  sub-treasury,  for  a 
gradual  reduction  in  the  tariff,  and  against 
the  distribution  of  the  surplus  funds  among 
the  states.  This  is  the  only  oasis  in  that 
most  dreary  and  long-drawn-out  presiden 
tial  contest. 

On  the  first  of  November,  just  preceding 
the  election,  a  leading  New  England  Whig 
paper  said:  "Political  knavery  was  never 
before  carried  to  such  an  extent  in  this  coun 
try  as  it  has  been  by  Martin  Van  Buren.  To 
all  intents  and  purposes,  on  all  great  national 
questions,  on  which  all  leading  statesmen 
have  taken  sides,  Martin  Van  Buren  is 
seated  on  the  fence.  What  confidence  can 
be  placed  by  any  party  in  such  a  trimmer? 
He  is  the  professed  friend  of  ail  factions;  in 
other  words,  he  is  not  to  be  trusted  by  any." 

And  a  few  days  later  the  same  journal 
gave  the  following  moderate  description  of 
his  political  methods. 

"Van  Buren  is  a  second-rate  man.  He  is 
riot  only  urged  by  a  corrupt  faction  as  a  can 
didate  for  the  presidency,  but  it  is  done  with 
such  a  high  hand  of  dictation,  that  those 
who  dare  oppose  him  are  denounced  and 
abused  as  though  they  had  committed  some 
unpardonable  offense  against  the  govern- 


Martin  Van  Buren 153 

ment.  This  is  a  contest  between  the  office 
holders  and  the  people.  These  official  agents, 
including  postmasters,  are  estimated  to 
amount  to  more  than  40,000,  scattered  all 
over  the  country.  They  derive  their  means 
of  living  from  the  public  treasury,  and  are 
totally  dependent  on  the  powers  that  be,  for 
their  support.  If  the  existing  powers 
would  but  tolerate  freedom  of  sentiment  and 
independence  in  the  exercise  of  their  politi 
cal  rights,  all  would  be  well.  But  the  mis 
fortune  is  that  the  President,  at  the  instiga 
tion  of  Martin  Van  Buren,  has  declared  a 
warfare  of  official  extermination  against  all 
who  have  the  independence  to  think  and  act 
for  themselves.  This  is  so  well  understood 
and  practiced  upon,  that  every  office-holder 
knows  that  his  official  income  depends  upon 
his  devotion  to  'the  party.'  Hence  every 
placeman,  whatever  may  be  his  private 
opinion  or  wish,  becomes  a  devoted  partisan 
of  Van  Buren.  Martin  Van  Buren  himself 
stands  foremost  to  set  an  example  of  cor 
rupt  subserviency." 

This  reads  very  much  like  a  description 
of  present-day  political  methods.  In  the 
year  in  which  it  was  written,  it  was  not  a  fa 
miliar  contribution  to  political  literature. 

One  other  contemporary  characterization 
of  Van  Buren,  written  at  this  time,  will  give 
the  views  of  the  moderate  Whigs  concerning 
the  Democratic  presidential  candidate.  On 
November  5,  1836,  Alexander  E.  Everett,  a 


154    Five  American  Politicians 

former  United  States  minister  to  Spain,  wrote 
a  letter  for  publication.  This  is  his  opinion 
of  Van  Buren : 

"A  narrow,  sordid,  selfish  spirit  pursuing 
little  ends  by  little  means.  No  power, 
depth  or  reach  of  mind;  no  generosity  of 
feeling ;  no  principle  or  cause,  no  faith  in  the 
existence  of  such  qualities  in  others.  He 
enters  on  the  high  and  sacred  concerns  of 
government  in  the  same  temper  in  which, 
as  a  village  lawyer,  he  sat  down  to  play  all 
comers  at  the  ale  house,  and  is  just  as  ready 
to  employ  any  trick  that  will  increase  his 
share  of  the  'spoils  of  victory.'  This  cele 
brated  phrase,  the  most  unblushing  avowal 
of  infamy  that  was  ever  made  by  a  public 
man,  characterizes  completely  Mr.  Van  Bur- 
en  and  his  party." 

Notwithstanding  these  widespread  opin 
ions,  Van  Buren  was  elected.  Of  283  elec 
toral  votes  he  received  170,  and  of  a  popular 
vote  of  1,498,328  he  had  762,678.  Not  an 
over- whelming  majority,  and  one  confined  to 
New  England  and  the  Middle  States.  His 
own  New  York  gave  him  29,000  majority. 

Thus  entered  the  White  House  the  first  of 
our  presidents  who  had  not  been  active  in 
the  Revolution.  The  first  was  he,  also,  of 
mere  politicians  who  usurped  the  place  of 
the  statesmen  that  had  graced  the  highest 
place  in  our  government  since  its  inception. 

It  was  a  noble  succession  to  which  he  at 
tained.  Not  in  the  history  of  nations  has 


Martin  Van  Bur  en  155 

there  been  a  nobler,  abler  and  more  majes 
tic  line  of  rulers  than  that  which  exalted 
our  executive  office,  from  the  great  Cincin- 
natus  to  the  Hero  of  New  Orleans. 

Each  one  has  left  an  imposing  monument 
to  his  genius.  Washington  organized  the 
government  from  the  broken  fragments  of 
the  Confederation.  The  Father  of  his 
Country  transmitted  to  this  republic  the 
character  of  his  own  personality,  its  dignity, 
patriotism  and  high  aspirations.  All  the 
virtues  of  the  republic  were  blended  in  his 
genius,  and  transmitted  to  all  time  by  the 
ardor  of  his  services. 

The  elder  Adams  was  the  Puritan  states 
man  whose  rugged  force  resisted  the  incur 
sions  of  England  and  France. 

Thomas  Jefferson,  philosopher  and  farmer, 
gave  to  the  nation  not  only  the  axioms  of  the 
Declaration  of  Independence,  but  added  a 
domain  of  imperial  magnitude  and  unlim 
ited  resources  to  the  thirteen  states. 

James  Madison  was  the  father  of  our  fed- 
teral  constitution.  Modest  and  scholarly, 
he  was  fitted  rather  for  the  bench  than  for 
the  executive  chair.  And  his  quiet  nature 
shrank  from  the  conduct  of  a  bloody  war. 

James  Monroe,  gallant,  courtly,  added  the 
Monroe  doctrine  to  the  rules  of  international 
conduct. 

John  Quincy  Adams,  scholar,  diplomat, 
statesman,  administered  the  duties  of  the 
office  with  vehemence  and  impartiality. 


156    Five  American  Politicians 

Andrew  Jackson,  hero  of  the  multitude, 
soldier  rather  than  statesman  patriot 
though  partisan,  fought  with  frenzied  zeal 
the  bank  he  believed  to  be  the  enemy  of 
the  people,  and  struck  from  the  hand  of 
secession  the  sword  it  had  lifted  against 
the  federal  union.  His  rugged  personality 
has  left  upon  the  nation  a  permanent  impress, 
and  so  strong  was  the  virility  of  his  convic 
tions  that  he  gave  new  birth  to  a  national 
party,  and  he  remains  to  this  day  the  politi 
cal  sanction  of  half  our  peoples. 

Now  comes  Martin  Van  Buren,  machine 
politician.  A  man  with  a  marvelous  memory 
for  names,  a  smile  for  every  eye,  a  clasp  for 
every  hand,  a  nod  for  every  issue.  A  man  who 
has  reduced  politics  to  routine,  plunder  to  a 
science,  and  duping  the  public  to  an  art.  A 
man  who  masks  his  littleness  behind  the  great 
ness  of  his  master,  who  transforms  artifice  into 
reality,  who  exalts  majorities  above  princi 
ples.  A  man  who  is  the  friend  of  New  York's 
Tammany,  founder  of  the  Albany  Regency, 
master  mechanic  of  the  first  national  political 
machine.  This  man  inaugurates  the  era  of  the 
mediocre,  which  for  a  quarter  of  a  century  will 
rule  the  White  House,  and  transform  the  na 
tional  capitol  into  the  duelling  ground  be 
tween  the  North  and  South,  the  enchained  and 
the  free :  the  mediocre  executive  whose  weak 
nesses  and  foibles  will  allow  the  giants  of  the 
hour  free  combat,  and  will  delay  the  day  of 
the  "  irrepressible  conflict." 


Martin  Van  Bur  en  157 

Van  Buren  knew  how  to  marshal  men, 
but  he  could  not  marshal  facts.  He  knew 
how  to  use  issues,  but  he  could  not  face  is 
sues.  The  day  of  his  inauguration  was  the 
day  of  his  enervation.  His  inaugural  speech 
was  direct  and  able,  a  surprise  to  his  friends 
and  a  disappointment  to  his  foes.  But  he 
could  not  live  up  to  its  prophecy.  The  pol 
itician  could  not  metamorphose  into  the 
statesman.  The  man,  who  for  years  had 
resorted  to  all  the  petty  tricks  of  office  seek 
ers,  could  not  exalt  his  office  above  the  mean 
ness  of  his  devices.  When  Van  Buren  as 
sumed  to  play  the  role  of  statesman,  his 
cunning  left  him,  his  vitality  departed. 
His  appointments  were  lamentably  weak, 
such  as  the  naming  of  Paulding  for  secretary 
of  the  navy.  His  skill  as  a  leader  vanished. 
He  could  not  hold  his  party  together.  And 
misfortune,  that  had  throughout  his  long 
public  career  been  a  stranger  to  him,  now 
called  at  his  door  with  her  troop  of  melan 
choly  followers.  The  unwisdom  of  Jackson's 
financial  measures  now  became  apparent. 
The  whirlwind  was  reaped  by  poor  Van 
Buren. 

The  panic  of  1837  desolated  every  hamlet 
and  brought  woe  to  every  home.  Want  and 
failure  stalked  the  land.  Mills  were  closed, 
mortgages  foreclosed,  whole  towns  swept  off 
the  map,  fortunes  vanished  in  a  night. 
Prices  became  ridiculous,  wages  were  reduced 
to  the  starvation  point,  and  profits  were  the 


158    Five  American  Politicians 

substance  of  reverie.  No  subsequent  panic 
wrought  such  havoc  with  the  great  masses  of 
our  people  as  did  the  crisis  of  1837.  The  ad 
ministration  had  to  bear  the  blame.  All  the 
failures  of  Jackson's  rash  and  insane  finan 
cial  measures  were  heaped  upon  Van  Buren's 
head. 

\  Van  Buren  could  not  avert  disaster,  but 
he  faced  it  with  calmness,  dignity  and  brav 
ery.  He  called  a  special  session  of  Con 
gress,  boldly  stated  his  plan  for  a  sub-treas 
ury  system,  and  devoted  himself  faithfully 
to  the  cause  of  redemption. 

The  panic  ran  its  course  before  the  end  of 
his  term.  But  the  return  of  activity  could 
not  restore  Van  Buren  to  favor.  The  people 
visited  their  own  disaster  upon  their  Presi 
dent.  They  transferred  the  wild  enthusi 
asm  they  had  bestowed  upon  Jackson  to 
William  Henry  Harrison,  the  Whig  candi 
date,  and  in  a  delirium  of  nervous  frenzy, 
elected  the  first  "unknown"  man  to  the 
presidency. 

It  was  a  furious  campaign,  fanatical  and 
unreasoning;  childish  and  blind. 

Gen.  Harrison  possessed  those  rugged 
traits  of  character  that  appealed  to  the 
frontiersman  and  the  farmers  of  the  west. 
Indian  fighter,  he  was  the  hero  of  Tippe- 
canoe;  coon  hunter,  he  was  the  woodsman's 
ideal;  dwelling  in  a  log  cabin,  he  was  com 
mon  with  the  frontiersman;  a  lover  of  hard 
cider,  he  was  not  aristocratic;  farmer  and 


Martin  Van  Bur  en  159 

stock  raiser  he  was  the  idol  of  the  agricul 
tural  classes;  poor,  and  accustomed  to  hard 
toil,  he  was  "one  of  the  people."  And  he 
had  seen  just  enough  public  service  as  gov 
ernor  of  Indiana  Territory,  and  as  congress 
man,  to  excuse  his  candidacy  in  the  minds 
of  the  eastern  Whigs. 

The  personal  characteristics  of  the  candi 
dates  were  exalted  above  issues.  Van 
Buren  was  a  "mere  politician,"  Harrison 
accused  him  of  "electioneering  tricks  de 
signed  by  the  great  enemy  of  mankind  for 
the  destruction  of  pure  government,  by  pre 
venting  a  free  expression  of  the  public  will." 
Giddings  of  Ohio  called  him  a  "senile  dough 
face,  who  had  placed  the  evidence  of  his 
senility  conspicuously  upon  the  records  of 
his  country,"  and  said  that  his  desire  for  the 
vote  of  the  slave-dealers  was  "uppermost 
in  his  mind." 

New  York  Evening  Post  more  truth- 
portrayed  his  political  methods:    "He 
belongs  wholly  to  the  present  time,  and  may 
be  said  to  represent  trading  or  business  poll-  j 
tics.     He  is  the  very  impersonation  of  party  < 
in  its  strictest  feature  of  formal  discipline 
and  exclusive  combination." 

M.  M.  Noah,  a  publicist  of  some  note,  said 
the  people  "  do  not  see  the  fox  prowling  near 
the  barn,  the  mole  burrowing  near  the 
ground,  the  pilot  fish  who  plunges  deep  into 
the  ocean  in  one  spot  and  comes  up  in  an 
other  to  breathe  the  air."  This  was  pictur- 


. 

'  fully 


160    Five  American  Politicians 

esque,  and  more  vivid  than  his  description 
of  Van  Buren's  methods:  "His  appeal  is  to 
the  interests  and  to  the  fears  of  men.  He 
secures  those  whom  he  imagines  control 
public  opinion.  He  buys  the  leaders  and 
makes  them  accountable  for  the  rank  and 
file."  Van  Buren's  political  tricks  made 
him  known  to  the  public  as  "the  fox," 
"snake  in  the  grass,"  "the  little  magician." 

The  crisis,  of  course,  was  not  forgotten  in 
the  campaign.  It  is  strange  that  in  their 
condemnation  of  Van  Buren  for  breaking 
the  storm,  they  did  not  blame  for  one  mo 
ment  the  Sage  of  the  Hermitage  for  gathering 
the  clouds.  They  transferred  their  enthu 
siasm  from  Jackson  to  Harrison,  Unrea 
soning  and  unfair,  they  blamed  the  President 
for  the  part  he  had  played  in  the  financial 
legislation,  and  meted  him  no  praise  for  the 
manly  way  in  which  he  had  faced  discour 
aging  conditions  and  had  sought  to  stem 
the  tide  of  disaster. 

The  land  was  flooded  with  printed  matter. 
The  sedate  and  labored  pamphlets  of  Fed 
eral  days  were  supplanted  by  silly,  and,  un 
fortunately,  often  scurrilous,  slanderous  and 
suggestive  matter,  put  together  in  a  sensa 
tional  manner  and  distributed  everywhere. 
The  daily  paper  and  weekly  magazine  had 
not  yet  made  their  universal  appearance, 
and  these  campaign  documents  were  read 
with  avidity.  The  reasons  why  Van  Buren 
should  be  defeated  were  enumerated,  often 


I 


Martin  Fan  Buren  161 

there  were  one  hundred  reasons  given,  most 
of  them  trifling,  many  of  them  false,  and  a 
few  slanderous.  He  was  charged  with  par 
tiality,  with  party  treason,  with  extrava 
gance,  he  was  elected  "purely  on  the  popu 
larity  of  Jackson."  His  sub- treasury  sys 
tem  was  borrowed  from  Jackson;  he  was 
non-committal,  underhanded,  sly;  he  should 
be  defeated  because  "he  is  too  aristocratic, 
even  in  his  drink,  preferring  imported  cham 
pagnes  and  imperial  Tokay  to  that  simple 
and  republican  drink,  hard  cider"  and 
"because  the  majesty  of  Democracy  does 
not  consist  in  an  extravagantly  furnished 
house,  magnificent  plate,  golden  spoons  and 
forks,  nor  any  of  the  tinsel  drapery  with 
which  monarchy  dazzles  the  eye  of  its 
slaves."  He  should  be  defeated  because  Har-  \  / 
rison  is  "simple,  democratic,  one  of  the  peo 
ple,"  and  most  of  all  because  "the  people  , 
want  a  change." 

To  emphasize  the  democracy  of  their  can 
didate,  the  Whigs  exaggerated  every  token 
Van  Buren  had  given,  of  dignity  and  quiet 
reserve.  A  few  plated  spoons  that  had  found 
their  way  to  the  White  House  table,  a  gift  of 
draperies,  mantel-mirrors  and  some  paint 
ings  that  had  hung  on  the  walls  of  the  re 
ception  hall  for  many  years,  were  ex 
ploited  in  song  and  story.  The  simple  and 
unostentatious  hospitality  of  the  Presi 
dent  was  magnified  into  Bourbon  extrava 
gance. 


162    Five  American  Politicians 

"His  splendid  halls  are  hung  about  with 

richest  tapestry, 
The  mirrors  bright  and  paintings  rare 

are  wonderful  to  see. 
And  there  his  worship  sits  in  state, 
And  rumor's  tongue  doth  say, 
He  quaffs  from  golden  cups,  rich  wine 
To  moisten  his  old  clay, 
Like  a  sub- treasury  gentleman,  all  of  the 

modern  time." 

It  was  a  battle  of  ins  and  outs,  the  first  of 
our  national  contests  carried  on  only  for  the 
avowed  purpose  of  party  spoils.  The  Whigs 
wanted  the  jobs,  the  Democrats  had  the 
jobs.  This  was  the  only  issue,  and  it  was 
concealed  behind  the  mask  of  personality. 
The  unknown  Harrison,  rough,  rugged  and 
sincere,  was  set  up  against  the  well  known 
Van  Buren,  suave,  rich  and  designing.  The 
ruse  succeeded.  Popular  feeling  was  stirred 
to  its  depths.  Reason  and  logic  found  no 
place  in  that  campaign  of  hue  and  cry. 
Every  citizen  voted.  900,000  more  votes 
were  cast  in  1840  than  in  1836.  Upon  the 
crest  of  this  tidal  wave  of  emotion  William 
Henry  Harrison  was  lifted  from  the  office 
of  county  clerk  to  the  office  of  President  of 
the  United  States.  The  White  House,  in 
the  popular  imagination,  was  supplanted  by 
the  log  cabin,  coonskins  took  the  place  of 
"tapestries  rare,"  festoons  of  dried  apples 
and  pumpkins  suspended  from  the  ceiling, 


Martin  Van  Bur  en  163 

and  the  exhilarating  odor  of  hard  cider  filled 
every  chamber. 

The  defeat  was  crushing.  The  unknown 
farmer  received  234  electoral  votes ;  the  per 
fect  politician  only  60.  His  own  state,  for 
the  first  time  in  his  life,  went  against  Van 
Buren  by  13,300. 

He  received  the  verdict  with  the  cool  calm 
ness  of  a  man  who  has  long  reckoned  with 
political  fate.  He  returned  to  Kinderhook 
and  began  the  campaign  for  reelection  in 
1844.  It  was  a  campaign  of  letter  writing. 
By  the  hundreds  he  sent  forth  these  epistles 
to  his  faithful  ones  in  every  state.  But  he 
was  now  a  deposed  chief.  There  was  defec 
tion  in  his  own  party.  The  South  was  de 
termined  that  the  candidate  should  be 
pledged  to  the  annexation  of  Texas.  Cal- 
houn's  day  for  revenge  was  at  hand.  Van 
Buren  would  not  yield  to  the  dictation  of 
the  slave  states  and  pledge  himself  to  their 
cause.  This  was  the  most  manly  act  of  his 
life.  It  lost  him  the  nomination  but  it  made 
him  independent. 

In  the  convention  of  1844  a  majority  of  the 
delegates  were  pledged  to  Van  Buren.  But 
the  South  was  unbending.  It  came  into  the 
hall  determined  to  carry  its  point.  The  two- 
thirds  rule  that  Van  Buren  had  written  in 
1832,  that  had  reappeared  in  1835,  and  that 
had  been  dropped  in  1840,  was  now  taken  up 
by  the  slaveholders  as  their  weapon.  They 
forced  it  upon  the  convention.  Van  Buren 


164    Five  American  Politicians 

could  not  hold  together  two-thirds  of  the 
delegates  and  lost  the  nomination.  He  was 
killed  by  a  weapon  of  his  own  forging. 
James  K.  JPo/k,  first  political  "darkhorse," 
man  of  mediocrity,  obscurity  and  passivity, 
was  nomingtechand  elected.  Over  his  tri 
umph  slave  extension  ran  riot. 

Van  Buren's  return  to  his  beautiful  Lin- 
denwald  on  the  Hudson  was  thus  made  per 
manent.  In  1848  he  crept  into  notice  again 
as  the  presidential  candidate  for  the  sporadic 
Free  Soil,  or  American,  party,  an  anti- 
Catholic,  anti-foreign  movement  pushed  for 
ward  by  some  fanatic  alarmers.  But  the 
frenzy  wore  off  in  a  few  years  and  the  agita 
tion  was  quite  forgotten. 

Thus  closed  the  public  career  of  a  re 
markable  politician,  who  inaugurated  a  new 
movement  into  American  politics.  The  de 
fection  in  his  party  began  upon  his  defeat. 
A  letter  in  the  Democratic  Review  of  the  fol 
lowing  year  gives  such  a  fair  summing  up  of 
the  man's  character  that  I  transpose  several 
paragraphs  here.  The  letter  is  addressed  to 
Van  Buren  by  "A  fellow  Democrat": 

"  In  your  first  candidateship  for  the  Presi 
dency  you  were  the  object  of  no  enthusiasm, 
beyond  the  limits,  perhaps,  of  your  own 
state.  A  circumstance  connected  only  re 
motely  with  any  personal  qualities  or  claims 
of  your  own  made  you  Vice-President,  your 
rejection  for  the  English  mission  by  the 
senate.  *  *  Nor  did  the  impulse  in 


Martin  Van  Bur  en  165 

your  favor  thus  called  into  action  by 
your  own  very  enemies  exhaust  itself  in 
your  elevation  to  the  Vice-Presidency.  It 
placed  you  at  the  same  time  in  that  posi 
tion  of  prominence  in  the  rank  of  your 
party  which  could  not  fail  to  indicate  you 
almost  as  a  matter  of  course  as  its  next  can 
didate.  *  *  Your  nomination  was  a  mat 
ter  of  course. 

"Still  through  all  this  your  position  was 
comparatively  passive.  You  had  done  no 
great  deeds  to  entitle  you  to  this  most  splen 
did  of  political  honors,  by  any  right  of  your 
own.  Your  personal  claims  were  of  a  nature 
rather  negative  than  positive.  A  singular 
fortunate  tide  of  circumstances  had  borne 
you  forward  to  the  position  you  had  reached; 
while  your  talents  and  the  consistent  fidelity 
to  Democratic  principles,  together  with  the 
wise  moderation  of  character  and  the  well 
balanced  self-command  which  had  been  un 
ostentatiously  exhibited  throughout  the  even 
tenor  of  your  past  political  life,  though  but 
a  small  portion  of  it  had  been  spent  on  the 
broader  stage  of  national  politics,  afforded 
guarantees  on  which  all  could  rely  that  the 
high  trust  might  be  safely  reposed  in  your 
hands.  There  was  thus  a  general  willing  ac 
quiescence  on  the  part  of  Democracy  in  your 
elevation,  but  it  was  rather  of  a  cold  char 
acter.  The  number  was  far  from  small,  even 
among  those  who  supported  you,  who  were 
not  free  from  some  distrustful  misgivings  io 


1 66    Five  American  Politicians 

relation  to  you.  A  certain  impression,  the 
more  unfavorable  from  its  very  vagueness, 
prevailed  to  no  slight  extent  even  among  your 
own  party  that  you  had  rather  too  much  the 
talent  of  the  politician  and  too  little  the 
genius  of  the  statesman.  And  never  had  a 
President  higher  reason  for  pride  in  the  sup 
port  received  by  him  from  his  party  than 
that  with  which  you  can  reflect  upon  all  the 
circumstances  of  the  great  contests  fromwhich 
you  are  now  reposing,  defeated  but  not  dis 
honored.  With  all  the  respect  and  political 
attachment  for  you,  of  which,  in  your  present 
day  of  downfall,  I  have  felt  no  desire  to  stint 
the  expression,  I  confess  that  I  am  not  in 
favor  of  your  name  as  a  candidate  for  the 
next  election,  on  the  sole  and  simple  ground 
that  you  have  already  had  four  years  of 
that  most  splendid  of  political  dignities." 

This  was  breaking  the  news  gently  and 
telling  the  truth  with  soft  words.  It  is  per 
haps  the  fairest  contemporary  character 
sketch  of  Van  Buren. 

The  defeated  candidate  returned  to  his 
beautiful  estate,  Lindenwald,  and  spent  the 
remaining  years  of  his  life  in  the  quiet  pur 
suits  of  agriculture.  He  lived  until  1862, 
long  enough  to  see  the  great  issue  which  he 
had  straddled  become  the  menace  of  the 
Union.  If  he  cherished  the  hope  that  Lin 
denwald  might  become  a  classic  name  linked 
to  the  nation's  history  with  Mount  Vernon, 
Monticello,  the  Hermitage,  and  Ashland, 


Martin  Fan  Buren  167 

his  hope  was  vain.  For  Van  Buren  did  not 
possess  those  traits  of  genius  that  endure. 
His  great  contribution  to  politics,  which  his 
eulogist  in  1839  glowingly  portrayed,  name 
ly,  that  "he  carried  into  full  effect,  with  ex 
emplary  propriety,  that  difficult  principle  of 
Democracy,  the  principle  of  rotation  in 
office,"  has  been  a  muddy  source  of  pollu 
tion  upon  his  fame.  It  is  true  that  in  the 
course  of  American  politics  the  spoils  system 
was  destined  to  become  national,  but  the 
man  who  was  principally  responsible  for  the 
introduction  was  destined  to  share  in  the 
odium  that  was  heaped  upon  the  system 
when  the  days  of  civil  service  and  civic 
righteousness  dawned. 

His  fame  must  rest  upon  his  genius  for 
practical  politics.  And  herein  had  he  no 
peers.  Nature  endowed  him  with  all  the 
suave  attributes  essential  to  the  mixer,  the 
plotter,  the  designer.  His  words  were  hon 
eyed  with  praise  for  everyone,  his  voice  was 
velvet,  his  greeting  hearty,  his  smile  sweet 
and  perpetual,  his  manner  graceful  and 
courteous,  his  temper  yielding,  his  memory 
true.  While  his  mind  was  well  stored  with 
general  literature,  it  was  constructive  only 
in  political  plans.  For  thirty-two  years  he 
held  office  without  ceasing,  and  barring  the 
sub-treasury  bill,  which  he  partially  bor 
rowed  of  his  great  predecessor,  he  made  no 
noted  contribution  to  American  law  or 
American  jurisprudence. 


1 68    Five  American  Politicians 

He  was  always  first  politician,  second  leg 
islator.  When  in  1822  Taylor,  of  New  York, 
was  a  candidate  for  reelection  as  speaker  of 
the  house  of  representatives,  Van  Buren, 
then  senator,  would  not  support  him  because 
he  was  a  Clintonian.  This  was  the  boss's 
ideal  of  party  discipline  during  the  days  of 
Monroe's  era  of  non-partisan  good  feeling. 
Of  all  the  applicants  for  the  place,  the  first 
and  absolutely  necessary  qualification  was 
obedience  to  the  Regency,  the  Ring,  and 
the  Party.  He  built  his  machine  of  the 
strongest  substance,  young  men.  He  welded 
them  together  by  his  kindness  and  secured 
their  united  action  by  office.  Thus  he 
created  the  Bucktail  Democracy  of  New 
York  with  its  Regency,  and  expanded  it  until 
it  covered  the  nation  as  the  compact  Jack- 
sonian  party. 

He  had  studied  in  a  great  school  of  poli 
tics.  He  learned  his  lesson  of  intrigue  from 
Burr's  associates,  his  lesson  of  organization 
from  Burr's  Tammany,  his  lesson  of  party 
spoils  from  Clinton's  appointing  board. 

He  began  his  political  career  a  friend  of 
Clinton,  but  the  austerity  of  this  statesman 
repelled  him.  And  what  a  contrast  he  was 
to  the  grave  DeWitt,  who  called  him  a 
"grimalkin  politician  purring  over  petty 
schemes."  Clinton  was  a  thundercloud, 
Van  Buren  radiant  sunshine.  Clinton  blun 
dered  forth  his  animosities,  Van  Buren  kept 
them  to  himself.  Clinton  stumbled  on  with- 


Martin  Van  Bur  en  169 

out  a  party,  Van  Buren  craftily  built  up  a 
party.  Clinton  was  a  statesman  proving 
equal  to  any  great  demand  put  upon  him; 
Van  Buren  was  a  politician  who  had  care 
fully  planned  a  stairway  to  the  Presidency, 
and  when  he  had  climbed  it,  was  found  la 
mentably  weak,  swept  aside  by  a  tornado 
of  protest,  and  left  behind  him  not  one  evi 
dence  of  creative  capacity.  Clinton,  when 
out  of  office,  was  stronger  than  when  in 
office;  Van  Buren,  when  out  of  office,  re 
mained  out  forever.  Clinton  was  a  giant 
without  a  party,  Van  Buren  was  a  pygmy 
without  his  machine.  Clinton  disorganized 
his  following,  but  created  public  sentiment; 
Van  Buren  organized  his  following  into  a 
superbly  disciplined  army,  but  never  won 
the  glory  of  a  creator  of  public  sentiment. 
Clinton  stumbled  into  power  because  of  his 
genius,  Van  Buren  carefully  devised  the  lad 
der  that  led  him  to  the  pinnacle  of  power. 
These  were  the  rungs  of  the  ladder:  Sur 
rogate,  State  Senator,  Attorney  General, 
United  States  Senator,  Governor,  Secretary 
of  State,  Minister  to  England,  Vice-Presi 
dent,  President. 

And  from  this  height  of  power,  he  fell 
suddenly  into  the  gloom  of  mediocrity.  Not 
because  of  any  fault  of  character,  for  his 
private  life  was  spotless  and  his  integrity 
beyond  reproach.  But  because  he  forgot 
the  persistence  of  issues,  because  he  built  for 
to-day  and  his  work  crumbled  on  the  mor- 


170    Five  American  Politicians 

row;  because  the  terraces  he  carefully 
erected  for  his  own  elevation  disintegrated 
under  him  and  buried  him  in  their  ruins; 
because  mere  politics  is  not  a  basis  for  last 
ing  fame,  and  political  chicane  is  not  a  foun 
dation  for  enduring  eminence. 


UNIVERSITY  I 

OF 


HENRY  CLAY 

MASTER  AND  VICTIM  OF  COMPROMISE 
AND  COALITION 


HENRY  CLAY 

MASTER  AND  VICTIM  OF  COMPROMISE 
AND  COALITION 


MANY  were  the  expressions  of  misgiv 
ing  that  accompanied  the  framing  of 
the  national  constitution  and  its 
adoption.  The  spirit  of  nationalism  was 
weak.  The  thought  of  a  blending  of  diverse 
states  into  a  homogeneous  union  was  novel. 
The  spirit  of  provincialism  was  powerful. 
The  thought  of  territorial  or  sectional  se 
curity  was  a  habit.  But  as  the  new  govern 
ment  grew  in  years  and  its  wise  leaders 
guided  it  into  the  realms  of  security  and 
prosperity,  a  national  sentiment  was  de 
veloped  unconsciously  as  develops  the  filial 
love  in  the  bosom  of  a  child.  As  the  revo 
lutionary  generation  gave  wray  to  their  sons 
and  daughters,  this  sentiment  increased. 
The  new  generation  knew  not  the  colonial 
passions  of  their  fathers.  They  knew  a 
United  States,  not  a  warring  strip  of  thirteen 
colonies.  The  patriotic  devotion  to  the 
Union  was  not  throbbing  with  that  ardor 
which  we  know  and  feel.  While  the  sun  of 
nationalism  was  showing  its  beaming  face, 
it  was  yet  a  rising  sun.  Fierce  and  terrible 
must  be  the  struggle  ere  it  could  shine  full 


174    Five  American  Politicians 

and  resplendent  upon  a  nation  united  in 
sentiment  as  in  law. 

It  was  the  mission  of  our  first  century  to 
evolve  this  spirit  of  unionism  out  of  the 
germs  of  sectionalism;  to  transform  the  con 
federation  into  a  union.  This  could  be  ac 
complished  only  after  a  ponderous  economic 
barrier  had  been  leveled,  after  great  leaders 
had  vainly  attempted  through  compromise 
and  coalition  to  avert  the  calamity  of  fra 
ternal  war.  The  insurmountable  economic 
barrier  was  slavery;  union  sentiment  was 
partially  crystalized  in  the  Whig  party;  and 
the  brilliant  leader  of  that  party  was  Henry 
Clay,  "The  Great  Pacificator."  Through 
his  trinity  of  compromises  he  delayed  the 
inevitable  struggle;  through  his  political 
genius  he  formed  the  first  coalition  party 
in  America;  through  his  burning  eloquence 
and  winning  generosity  he  brought  all  men 
to  his  feet,  and  his  very  greatness  closed  for 
him  the  portals  to  the  dearest  object  of  his 
ambition. 

The  first  storm  broke  in  1818-20  over  the 
admission  of  Missouri.  The  nation,  repos 
ing  in  the  calm  self-assurance  that  all  was 
well,  was  suddenly  shaken  by  a  political 
earthquake  that  threatened  to  demolish  the 
structure  of  its  government.  The  north, 
since  the  revolution,  had  been  content  to 
develop  its  commerce  and  manufacturies, 
paying  little  heed  to  the  economic  condi 
tions  of  the  south.  The  west  was  in  the 


Henry  Clay £75 

midst  of  a  vigorous  and  unprecedented 
growth,  the  south  was  learning  the  value 
of  slave  labor  as  an  adjunct  to  the  cotton 
gin  of  Whitney  and  the  mills  of  England. 
Each  section  was  economically  oblivious  of 
the  others.  When  Missouri  came,  inad 
vertently  asking  admission  to  the  group  in 
March,  1818,  she  called  the  attention  of  the 
whole  nation  to  the  subject  of  slavery.  By 
the  time  that  a  statehood  bill  had  been  for 
mulated,  February  13,  1819,  the  north, 
through  Tallmadge  of  New  York,  was  pre 
pared  to  move  that  the  introduction  of 
slavery  be  prohibited  and  that  all  persons  in 
the  state  be  free  when  they  attained  the 
age  of  twenty-five  years.  The  gauntlet  was 
thrown,  the  challenge  accepted,  the  struggle 
was  fierce  and  passionate,  its  outcome  was 
doubtful  until  compromise  was  achieved. 

The  interests  of  the  south  were  cloaked 
under  the  constitutional  argument  that  con 
gress  had  no  power  to  limit  the  admission 
of  a  state,  under  the  economic  argument 
that  white  men  could  not  work  in  the  cotton 
fields,  under  the  moral  argument  that  slavery 
was  better  for  the  negro  than  freedom  in  a 
land  where  white  and  black  had  to  dwell 
together.  The  answer  of  the  north  was 
that  the  constitution  did  not  recognize 
slavery  and  that  the  constitutional  power  of 
the  general  government  to  exclude  slavery 
from  territories  implied  the  power  to  dictate 
terms  of  admissions-  that  slavery  was  a 


176    Five  American  Politicians 

great  moral  wrong,  and  that  it  was  an 
economic  blight,  degrading  free  labor  wher 
ever  it  appeared.  These  arguments  were 
rephrased  and  amplified  in  every  slavery 
debate  for  forty  years.  But  this,  the  first 
great  debate  on  the  subject,  remained  the 
prototype  of  all;  and  in  its  bitterness  it  was 
not  excelled  by  anv. 

On  February  16,  1819,  the  House  passed 
the  Missouri  bill  with  an  amendment  te- 
stricting  slavery.  The  senate  struck  out 
the  amendment  and  sent  the  bill  back.  At 
tempts  at  adjustment  failed,  the  fifteenth 
congress  adjourned  under  tremendous  ex 
citement.  When  the  sixteenth  congress  met, 
the  senate  coupled  the  admission  of  Maine 
with  that  of  Missouri,  to  preserve  the  bal 
ance  of  power  in  the  senate.  An  amend 
ment  prohibiting  slavery  was  voted  down. 
T)n  January  18,  1820,  Senator  Thomas,  of 
Illinois,  proposed  an  amendment  that  Mis 
souri  be  allowed  to  frame  a  constitution 
without  any  restriction  as  regards  slavery, 
but  that  in  all  the  rest  of  the  territory  ceded 
by  France  to  the  United  States,  north  of 
36°  30',  the  southern  boundary  of  Missouri, 
slavery  be  forever  prohibited.  This  was 
the  core  of  the  famous  compromise.  After 
a  fierce  struggle  between  the  interests  of  the 
south  and  the  sentiment  of  the  north,  it 
passed  both  houses.  Clay,  as  speaker  of 
the  house,  had  opposed  the  admission  of 
Missouri  as  a  free  state,  but  he  warmly  ad- 


Henry  Clay  177 

vocated  the  compromise.  He  was  not  its 
father,  but  its  champion.  He  was  yet  to 
prove  its  savior. 

The  question  was  revived  with  multiplied 
energy  in  the  next  session.  The  bill  author 
izing  Missouri  to  form  a  state  constitution 
without  restricting  slavery  had  been  most 
narrowly  interpreted  by  the  territorial  con 
vention.  For  the  new  state  constitution 
imposed  upon  the  legislature  the  duty  of 
passing  laws  making  it  unlawful  for  any  free 
negroes  or  mulattoes  to  come  into  the  state 
or  to  reside  therein.  Free  negroes  and  mu 
lattoes  were  citizens  of  the  United  States, 
and  how  could  one  state  prohibit  the  citizens 
of  another  from  sojourning  and  living  there 
in,  when  the  federal  constitution  guaranteed 
that  the  immunities  of  one  state  should  ex 
tend  to  all? 

The  war  was  waged  simultaneously  in  both 
houses.  The  senate,  December  12,  1820, 
by  a  majority  of  eight,  passed  an  amend 
ment  to  the  motion  admitting  Missouri  pro 
viding  "that  nothing  herein  contained  shall 
be  so  construed  as  to  give  the  assent  of  con 
gress  to  any  provision  of  the  constitution  of 
Missouri,  if  any  there  be,  that  contravenes 
that  clause  of  the  constitution  of  the  United 
States  that  the  citizens  of  each  state  be  en 
titled  to  all  the  privileges  and  immunities 
of  citizens  in  the  several  states."  In  the 
house,  Lowndes  of  South  Carolina  intro 
duced  a  resolution  admitting  Missouri  on  the 


12 


178    Five  American  Politicians 

ground  that  congress  had  no  right  to  discard 
the  state  constitution.  Sergeant  of  Penn 
sylvania  replied  that  congress  had  not  di 
vested  itself  of  the  right  to  scrutinize  the 
new  state  constitution,  to  see  if  it  conformed 
to  the  conditions  stipulated.  A  majority 
of  fourteen  refused  the  admission  of  Mis- 
Isouri.  So  tense  was  the  excitement  that 
Lowndes  earnestly  asked  the  house  to  take 
proper  steps  to  preserve  peace  in  Missouri. 
Six  weeks  later,  January  24,  1821,  Eustis  of 
Massachusetts  moved  to  admit  Missouri  on 
condition  that  she  strike  out  the  clause  from 
her  constitution,  discriminating  against  free 
colored  persons.  The  motion  was  utterly 
lost,  by  a  vote  of  146  to  6.  The  house  was 
helpless  and  discouraged,  threats  of  disunion 
were  heard  on  every  hand.  A  rebellious 
territory  was  holding  up  a  great  nation. 

A  peace-maker  was  at  hand.  He  grasped 
**anew  the  smoldering  torch  of  union  senti 
ment  and  fanned  it  into  a  living  blaze. 
Upon  the  turbulent  waters  of  strife  he 
poured  the  assuaging  oil  of  compromise.  He 
appeared  upon  the  scene  at  the  critical  mo 
ment.  Pressure  of  financial  cares  had  com 
pelled  him  to  resign  the  s.peakership  at  the 
end  of  the  preceding  session.  He  had  ar 
rived  in  Washington  only  a  week  before  the 
introduction  of  Eustis'  resolution.  When 
the  vote  was  announced,  he  arose  at  once 
and  broke  the  solemn  stillness  that  weighed 
down  the  hearts  of  the  members,  by  calmly 


Henry  Clay 179 

announcing  that "  on  the  day  after  to-morrow 
he  should 'move  to  go  into  committee  of  the 
whole  to  take  into  consideration  the  resolu 
tion  from  the  senate  on  the  subject  of  Mis 
souri." 

All  efforts  to  reach  an  agreement  in  the 
committee  of  the  whole  failed.  In  order  to 
bring  these  men  together,  the  conciliator 
must  find  a  base  upon  which  could  stand 
most  violent  pro-slavery  men  who  would 
rather  keep  their  slaves  than  their  country, 
most  intense  anti-slavery  men  who  would 
rather  dissolve  the  constitution  than  relax 
their  high  moral  standard,  and  all  varieties  of 
faith  in  between  these  extremes.  At  last 
Clay  moved  to  refer  the  whole  matter  to  a 
special  committee  of  thirteen.  Clay  was 
made  chairman.  On  February  tenth,  his  re 
port  was  laid  before  the  expectant  House. 
To  the  north  it  proposed  to  admit  Missouri 
"  on  an  equal  footing  with  the  original  states 
in  all  respects  whatever,  upon  the  funda 
mental  condition  that  the  said  state  shall 
never  pass  any  law  preventing  any  descrip 
tion  of  persons  from  coming  to  and  settling 
in  the  said  state,  who  now  are,  or  hereafter  \v 
may  bceome,  citizens  of  any  of  the  states  of 
this  union."  To  the  south  it  said  that  noth 
ing  in  the  proposal  should  "be  construed  to 
take  from  the  said  state  of  Missouri,  when 
admitted  into  this  union,  the  exercise  of  any 
right  or  power  which  can  now  be  constitu 
tionally  exercised  by  any  of  the  original 


180    Five  American  Politicians 

states."  And  to  take  the  matter  out  of 
congress  it  resolved  that  Missouri  should  be 
come  a  state  as  soon  as  its  legislature,  by 
solemn  pact,  had  agreed  never  to  pass  any 
laws  imposing  upon  the  constitutional  rights 
of  any  citizen. 

Clay  appealed  in  his  most  ardent  and  win 
ning  tones  to  the  members  of  the  House. 
His  appeal  was  futile.  On  February  13th  the 
resolution  was  voted  down.  A  crisis  was 
near.  On  February  14th,  Monroe's  electoral 
votes  were  to  be  counted.  Should  Mis 
souri's  vote  be  counted?  A  joint  commit 
tee,  Clay  at  the  helm,  reported  "that  if  any 
objection  be  made  to  the  votes  of  Missouri, 
and  the  counting  or  omitting  to  count  which 
shall  not  materially  change  the  election,  in 
that  case  they  should  be  reported  by  the 
President  of  the  Senate  in  the  following  man 
ner;  were  the  votes  of  Missouri  to  be  count 
ed,  the  result  would  be  for  A.  B.  for  Presi 
dent  of  the  United  States — votes,  if  not 
counted,  for  A.  B.  as  President  of  the  United 
States — votes,  but  in  either  case  A.  B.  is 
elected  President,  and  in  the  same  manner 
for  Vice  President."  What  good  fortune  that 
Monroe's  choice  was  virtually  unanimous, 
and  his  Vice  President,  Tompkins,  had  an 
overwhelming  majority! 

But  this  did  not  end  the  Missouri  question. 
The  end  of  the  session  was  nearing.  The 
whole  country  was  agitated.  The  dissolu 
tion  of  the  Union  was  freely  and  openly  dis- 


Henry  Clay  181 

cussed.  James  Barber,  of  Virginia,  patriotic 
and  able,  earnestly  planned  a  convention  of 
free  and  slave  states  to  agree  on  a  plan  of  di 
viding  the  union.  Floyd,  of  Virginia,  had 
cried,  when  the  counting  of  the  presidential 
votes  was  in  progress,  "  We  cannot  take  an 
other  step  without  hurling  this  govern 
ment  into  the  gulf  of  destruction."  John 
Randolph,  whose  fiery  antagonism  to  the 
anti-slavery  men  had  estranged  him  even 
from  Clay,  who  was  himself  a  slave-owner, 
approached  Clay  one  day  and  said:  "Mr. 
Speaker,  I  wish  you  would  leave  this  chair;  I 
will  follow  you  to  Kentucky,  or  wherever  else 
you  may  go."  Clay  replied  that  he  would 
talk  it  over  with  him  the  following  morning 
in  the  speaker's  room,  at  which  time  Clay 
strongly  spoke  against  secession  in  any  form, 
and  pleaded  moderation.  Clay  himself  was 
often  gloomy  and  expressed  grave  appre 
hensions.  In  one  of  his  foreboding  moods 
he  foretold  that  in  a  few  years  the  Union 
would  probably  be  divided  into  three  di 
visions,  a  northern,  southern,  and  western. 
John  Quincy  Adams,  old  anti-slavery  war 
horse,  while  in  favor  of  a  compromise, 
wrote:  "Perhaps  it  would  have  been  a 
wiser  as  well  as  a  bolder  course  to  have 
persisted  in  the  restriction  upon  Missouri, 
'til  it  should  have  terminated  in  a  conven 
tion  of  the  states  to  amend  and  revise  the 
constitution.  This  would  have  produced 
a  new  Union  of  thirteen  or  fourteen  states. 


1 82    Five  American  Politicians 

unpolluted  with  slavery,  with  a  great  and 
glorious  object  to  effect,  namely,  that  of 
rallying  to  their  standard  the  other  states 
by  the  universal  emancipation  of  their 
slaves.  If  the  Union  must  be  dissolved, 
slavery  is  precisely  the  question  upon  which 
it  ought  to  break." 

And  from  Monticello  came  the  alarming 
words  of  Jefferson,  the  sage  of  the  dominant 
party:  "The  Missouri  question  is  the  most 
portending  one  that  ever  threatened  the 

\TJnion.  In  the  gloomiest  moments  of  the 
Revolutionary  War,  I  never  had  any  appre 
hension  equal  to  that  I  feel  upon  this 
source.  '  ^ 

These  sentiments  of  disunion  were  rapidly 
shaping  themselves  into  definite  form  as 
the  end  of  the  session  neared.  Clay's  final 
resort  was  a  joint  committee  to  report 
"  whether  it  be  expedient  or  not  to  make  pro 
vision  for  the  admissio  n  of  Missouri  into  the 
Union,  and  fix  the  execution  of  the  laws  of 
the  United  States  within  Missouri,  and  if  not, 
whether  any  other  and  what  provision, 
adapted  to  her  condition,  ought  to  be  made 
by  law."  Clay  was  permitted  to  make  the 

t  from  which  the  committee  was  chosen. 
February  28  the  report  was  ready.  It 
was  virtually  the  same  that  Clay's  commit 
tee  of  thirteen  had  previously  presented  to 
the  house.  By  a  majority  of  four  it  passed 
the  house,  the  senate  also  approved  it.  The 
struggle  in  congress  was  at  an  end. 


P.   wt 

.       te. 


Henry  Clay 183 

Clay  had  earned  his  title.  He  had  gone 
from  member  to  member,  suiting  his  plea  to 
his  man.  Personal  work  and  public  address, 
parliamentary  management  and  political 
craft,  were  made  the  adjuncts  of  his  luring 
eloquence.  Every  guile  known  to  a  warm 
heart,  all  the  compelling  powers  of  genius, 
did  he  pour  unstintingly  on  the  altar  of  his 
compromise. 

Who  was  this  great  "Pacificator/'  and 
what  had  been  his  antecedents,  that  he 
could  reunite  a  dividing  nation,  and  infuse 
new  life  into  a  dying  cause? 

Clay  was  forty-four  years  old  when  his 
compromise  won  for  him  a  lasting  place  in 
the  hall  of  fame.  But  it  was  by  no  means 
his  first  great  public  achievement.  He  had 
been  twenty  years  in  the  public  eye.  In 
deed,  for  Henry  Clay  to  speak,  was  for  a  na 
tion  to  listen;  for  him  to  beckon,  was  for  a 
populace  to  follow.  He  had  but  to  rise  in 
his  place,  and  the  republic's  gaze  was  cen 
tered  upon  him. 

Clay  was  destined  by  gift  and  circum 
stance  to  be  a  public  man.  For  nearly  half 
a  century,  from  the  time  of  his  majority  to 
the  day  of  his  death,  he  was  always  an  actor 
upon  the  political  stage,  and  most  of  the 
time  he  was  the  star  actor. 
J.  He  was  born  in  Hanover  County,  Virginia, 
in  a  neighborhood  called  "The  Slashes,"  on 
April  12,  1777,  the  year  after  the  adoption 
of  the  Declaration  of  Independence.  His 


184    Five  American  Politicians 

life   spanned    that    period    of   our   history 
which  fixed  forever  the  supremacy  of  the  na- 

|  tion  over  the  commonwealthj  As  a  babe,  he 
heard  the  guns  of  the  Revolution,  as  an  old 
man  of  seventy-six  years,  he  heard  the  omi 
nous  rumbling  that  foretold  the  gathering  of 
the  storm  his  energies  had  so  long  averted. 
His  father  was  a  Baptist  minister,  poor  in 
earthly  goods,  but  rich  in  faith  and  charac 
ter  and  eloquence,  known  throughout  the 
countryside  for  his  fine  voice  and  natural 
grace  of  speech.  His  mother  was  a  woman 
of  queenly  bearing  and  of  intense  patriot 
ism.  In  Henry  were  happily  blended  these 
gifts  of  eloquence,  of  spiritual  force,  of  regal 
demeanor,  and  of  love  for  country.  But 
the  school  in  which  these  talents  were  cul- 

jtured  was  the  liberal  school  of  life,  for  be 
yond  his  instruction  received  at  home  and  in 
the  little  country  school-house,  he  received 
no  formal  tuition.  His  father  died  when 
Henry  wras  only  four  years  old,  the  family 
was  large,  and  he  had  to  give  his  small  aid 
to  its  support.  At  the  age  of  fifteen  he  se 
cured  a  place  in  the  office  of  the  clerk  of  the 
High  Court  of  Chancery,  in  Richmond,  and 
there,  under  the  tuition  of  Roland  Thomas, 
the  senior  clerk,  he  received  his  formal  train 
ing  for  his  new  duties.  The  diligence  and 
wit  of  the  raw  youth  soon  attracted  the  at 
tention  of  Chancellor  Wythe  of  the  Court  of 
Chancery.  This  was  the  most  fortunate 
circumstance  in  Clay's  early  life.  The  Chan- 


Henry  Clay 185 

cellor  was  a  rare  man.  His  college  educa 
tion  he  had  supplemented  by  wide  reading 
and  large  experience.  His  revolutionary 
record  was  brilliant.  He  drew  up  a  remon 
strance  against  the  stamp  act,  he  signed  the 
Declaration  of  Independence,  he  helped  for 
mulate  the  Federal  Constitution.  His  mind 
was  profound  and  well  trained.  For  ten 
years  he  was  Professor  of  Jurisprudence  in 
William  and  Mary  College.  His  disposi 
tion  was  benevolent,  he  emancipated  all  his 
slaves  and  provided  for  them.  He  loved 
young  men,  and  took  delight  in  directing  their 
reading.  Thomas  Jefferson,  the  writer  of  the 
Declaration  of  Independence,  John  Marshall, 
*the  upholder  of  the  constitution,  Henry  Clay, 
jbhe  conciliator,  all  had  been  students  in  his 
Office.  What  a  trinity  of  talent  did  Chancellor 
Wythe  foster  for  his  country!  And  the/' 
youngest  among  them  was  not  the  least.  t"\ 
At  the  age  of  twenty-one,  vounp:  Clay  was/J 
admitted  to  the  bar.  Impatientat  once  'to'tf" 
gain  a  Targe  pi'ac'tl.c'e,  he  resolved  to  remove 
to  the  new  country,  so  to  Lexington,  Ken 
tucky,  he  migrated,  and  cast  his  fortune  into 
the  lap  of  the  west.  And  the  west  was  kind 
to  him.  His  exuberant  nature  fitted  into 
her  limitless  forests,  his  free  and  easy  grace 
found  ready  favor  in  her  unconventional 
towns,  his  high  spirits  were  in  consonance 
with  her  love  of  adventure,  and  the  kingly 
grace  of  his  demeanor,  devoid  of  all  hauteur, 
appealed  to  her  love  of  the  distinguished. 


i86    Five  American  Politicians 

Clay  was  born  to  be  the  hero  of  such  a 
country  and  the  leader  of  such  a  people.  He 
was  at  home  among  them.  His  peculiar  tal 
ents  were  complementary  to  their  curiosi 
ties.  A  show  of  learning  they  esteemed 
more  than  profound  scholarship,  and  Clay's 
reading  had  always  been  wide  but  not  deep. 
Eloquence  they  placed  above  logic,  and  young 
Clay  practiced  with  religious  diligence  in  the 
field,  the  forest,  and  the  barn,  the  art  that 
won  him  a  willing  hearing  wherever  he  went. 
Not  a  day  passed  without  his  reciting  some 
piece  he  had  committed  to  memory.  And 
the  smile,  the  jovial  handshake,  these  people 
of  the  west  desired  above  the  formal  man 
ners  of  eastern  society.  Clay  was  widely 
read,  was  eloquent,  was  a  good  fellow. 
From  the  first  his  success  was  assured. 
Competence  and  popularity  were  soon  in  his 
control. 

(JTwo  years  after  his  arrival  he  was  made 
a  member  of  the  convention  to  revise  the 
state's  constitution.  He  introduced  a  clause 
providing  for  the  emancipation  of  the  slaves 
in  the  state.  Clay's  naturaJ-imptrlses  were 
always  generous.  By  nature,  he  was  an 
anti-slavery  man.  Slavery  was  merely  an 
expedient  with.  hini.A  Political  contingen 
cies  later  in  life  carried  him  far  beyond  the 
convictions  of  his  youth,  to  the  lasting  harm 
of  his  supreme  desire. 

Clay  rendered  .brilliant  service  in  the  state 
legislature,  and  in  1806  was  appointed  to 


Henry  Clay  187 


serve  an 

senatgz  ffe~~was  the  youngest  member  ever 
received  into  that  august  body,  for  he 
lacked  three  months  and^seventeen  days  of 
being  thirty  years  old. fl|  It  is  remarkable 
that  no  objection  waS1  interposed  to  his  tak 
ing  the  oath.  The  first  speech  made  by  the 
young  senator  was  prophetic  of  the  obedi 
ence  his  oratory  would  command.  It  ad 
vocated  the  building  of  a  bridge  across  the; 
Potomac.  And  his  first  bill  foretold  one  of 
the  great  issues  he  would  espouse.  It  pro 
vided  for  the  building  of  a  canal  around  the 
rapids  of  the  Ohio  river.  The  boy  orator 
was  from  the  first  a  chajn^ipji^f^^srBal 
improvement. 

His  term  in  the  senate  lasted  only  a  few 
months,  but  in  1809  he  was  again  appointed 
to  fill  a  two-year  vacancy.  At  once  he  as 
sumed  the  floor  leadership  in  the  great  de 
bate  in  the  Florida  question.—. 

But  a  more  important  contest  was  at  hand. 
He  changed  the  scene  of  his  activities  from 
the  senate  to  the  house,  to  which  he  had 
been  elected  in  i'STT^anct"  the  subject  of  his 
combat  from  tHe  intrusions  upon  Florida 
to  the  indignities  offered  American  seamen 
by  European  frigates.  Clay  was  now  thirty- 
four  years  old  and  the  chief  of  the  aggressive 
Jeffersonian  Republicans.  His  incompar 
able  parliamentary  talents  required  no  ap 
prenticeship.  He  was  immediately  and 
gladly  accepted  as  leader,  and  forthwith 


1 88    Five  American  Politicians 

elected  speaker.  This  is  perk&ps  the  only 
instance  in  our  history  where  a  young  man 
was  accorded  this  unusual  honor  in  the  very 
first  term  of  his  service  in  the  national  house. 

The  issues  of  a  war  with  Great  Britain 
were  peculiarly  alluring  to  Clay,  and  his  en 
vironment  in  the  house  lent  every  aid  to  his 
talents.  The  old  generation  had  mostly 
passed  away.  Young  men,  who  did  not 
carry  arms  against  England  in  the  War  for 
Independence,  were  thronging  public  life. 
These  young  men,  ardent  in  love,  intense  in 
hate,  unbounded  in  ambition  for  their  coun 
try,  were  Clay's  associates.  The  conserva 
tive  east  no  longer  monopolized  opinion  and 
controlled  action.  A  young  and  spirited 
west  had  crossed  the  nation's  threshhold  and 
took  its  place  beside  its  elders  in  the  councils 
of  the  land.  Clay  was  the  incarnation  of 
'this  restless  spirit  of  growth.  His  luxuri- 
~'ant  imagination  thrived  on  the  contempla 
tion  of  his  country's  future.  He  loved 
action,  and  despised  contemplation.  Im 
pulse,  rather  than  reason,  led  him  on.  Pa 
triotism  was  to  him  an  instinct  as  powerful 
as  the  instinct  of  self-preservation.  With 
intense  passion  he  hurled  himself  into  the 
arena. 

Josiah  Quincy  was  the  leader  of  the  Feder 
alists  who  opposed  war.  He  called  Clay 
and  his  adherents  "very  young  politicians, 
their  pin  feathers  not  yet  grown,  and,  how 
ever  they  may  flutter  on  this  floor,  they  are 


Henry  Clay 189 

not  yet  fledged  for  any  high  or  distant  flight, 
who  think  that  threats  and  appealing  to  fear 
are  the  ways  of  producing  any  disposition  to 
negotiate  in  Great  Britain  or  in  any  other 
nation  which  understands  what  it  owes  to  its 
own  safety  and  honor."  The  young  pat 
riot's  pin  feathers  may  not  have  been  fledged 
but  his  powerful  beak  was  fully  developed 
and  perfectly  capable  of  tearing  Quincy's 
terrific  arraignment  limb  from  limb.  The 
Federalists  laid  themselves  open  to  the  se 
vere  charge  of  being  unpatriotic.  This  was 
the  lofty  theme  of  Clay's  reply.  And  no 
other  theme  could  play  upon  the  gamut  of 
his  talents,  as  could  this  one.  It  swept 
every  chord  of  imagination,  of  argument,  of 
passion,  of  invective,  of  appeal.  Its  in 
spiring  words  resounded  through  the  whole 
country.  He  closed  by  saying  that  "an 
honorable  peace  is  attainable  only  by  an 
efficient  war.  My  plan  would  be  to  call  out 
the  ample  resources  of  the  country,  give 
them  a  judicious  direction,  prosecute  the 
war  with  the  utmost  vigor,  strike  wherever 
we  can  reach  the  enemy,  at  sea  and  on  land, 
and  negotiate  the  terms  of  peace  at  Quebec 
or  at  Halifax.  We  are  told  that  England 
is  a  proud  and  lofty  nation,  which,  disdain 
ing  to  wait  for  danger,  meets  it  half  way. 
Haughty  as  she  is,  we  once  triumphed  over 
her,  and  if  we  do  not  listen  to  the  councils  of 
timidity  and  despair,  we  shall  again  prevail. 
On  such  a  cause,  with  the  aid  of  Providence, 


190    Five  American  Politicians 

we  must  come  out  crowned  with  success. 
But  if  we  fail,  let  us  fail  like  men,  lash  our 
selves  to  our  gallant  tars,  and  expire  to 
gether  in  one  common  struggle,  fighting  for 
free  trade  and  seamen's  rights." 

The  war  was  almost  a  failure.  Clay  was 
permitted  to  help  gather  the  harvest  his  war 
had  reaped.  Together  with  John  Quincy 
Adams,  Bayard,  Jonathan  Russell  and  Al 
bert  Gallatin,  he  was  sent  to  Ghent  to  nego 
tiate  a  peace.  It  was  a  miserable  harvest 
that  they  garnered.  The  war  was  virtually 
barren  of  substantial  results.  To  Clay's 
political  ambitions  it  was  laden  with  apples 
of  Sodom.  The  battle  of  New  Orleans, 
fought  after  the  truce  had  been  announced, 
like  a  child  born  out  of  season,  gave  to  the 
nation  a  war  hero,  Andrew  Jackson.  Three 
times  he  stood  between  Clay  and  the  White 
House.  Thus  did  the  war,  the  creation  of 
Clay's  fervor,  bring  forth  a  hero,  the  de 
stroyer  of  Clay's  ambition. 

Upon  his  return  to  the  United  States, 
Clay  was  immediately  reflected  to  congress. 
The  president  offered  him  the  ambassador 
ship  to  Russia,  and  the  war  portfolio,  but  he 
preferred  to  be  speaker.  The  years  that  fol 
lowed  were  years  of  plenty.  The  era  of 
good  feeling  was  an  era  of  commercial  and 
territorial  development.  To  Clay  it  offered- 
/  an  opportunity  to  exploit  his  great  pro- 
I  gram  of  internal  improvements,  the  tariff, 
and  a  national  bank.  These  policies  were 


Henry  Clay  191 

inspired  by  his  vast  conception  of  the  fu 
ture  of  America,  and  illumined  by  the  burn-S  /  $ 
ing  ardor  of  his  patriotism.  Turnpikes  and 
canals  were  to  bind  the  states  into  closer 
communion,  protective  duties  were  to  fos 
ter  infant  industries,  a  national  bank  was  to 
afford  security  against  private  chicane  and 
public  rashness.  During  these  years  he  also 
espoused  the  cause  of  the  South  American 
Icountries  which  were  struggling  for  their 
j  iberties.  His  lukewarm  attitude  toward 
"the  administration  was  converted  into  en 
thusiasm  by  the  Monroe  doctrine.  In  all  of 
these  causes  he  was  the  leader.  His  mag 
nificent  voice  was  heard  in  every  debate,  his 
skill  directed  every  movement. 

The  era  of  good  feeling  came  to  a  sudden 
end  by  the  Missouri  controversy,  which 
lifted  the  ghastly  spectre  of  slavery  into  full 
view  and  made  Henry  Clay  the  leader  of  the 
nation's  hope. 

It  is  remarkable  how  soon  the  people  ap 
parently  forgot  the  significance  of  this  strug 
gle.  The  day  before  the  final  vote  on  the 
compromise,  they  were  threatening  each 
other  with  destruction.  The  day  after  they 
locked  arms  in  the  joyful  procession  of  peace. 
But  upon  the  politics  of  the  day  the  slavery 
debate  made  a  lasting  impression.  The 
Missouri  question  was  the  first  rude  shock 
given  to  our  political  retort,  and  it  set  in  mo-  J  //• 
tion  the  invisible  particles  of  political  con 
viction  which  ultimately  crystallized  into 


192    Five  American  Politicians 

new  parties.  From  that  time  forth  the 
political  molecules  were  rearranging  them 
selves  about  the  central  axes  of  slavery  and 
emancipation.  It  took  several  decades  to 
perfect  the  realignment.  The  transition 
period  was  one  of  coalition,  of  makeshifts,  of 
expedients.  It  was  the  period  of  Whigism. 

In  1823,  after  a  brief  voluntary  retirement 
from  public  life,  Clay  was  returned  to  the 
house  and  at  once  made  speaker.  The  Ken- 
/  tucky  legislature  in  November,  1822,  had 
\  nominated  him  for  the  presidency.  It  was 
then,  as  a  presidential  candidate,  that  he  as 
sumed  the  speakership.  From  this  time 
forth  there  were  two  Henry  Clays.  One, 
Clay  the  statesman,  the  other,  Clay  the  pres 
idential  candidate.  The  one  always  stood 
in  the  way  of  the  other.  That  glittering,  ir- 
ridescent  bubble,  the  presidential  office, 
floated  constantly  before  his  vision. 

Yet  his  first  campaign  for  the  high  office 
was  his  best.  He  kept  his  ambitions  well 
within  control.  He  avoided  all  dualism, 
and  appealed  to  the  confidence  of  his  fellow- 
citizens  by  the  earnest  and  outspoken  ad 
vocacy  of  great  causes.  And  his  causes 
were  internal  improvement  and  the  tariff. 
j~  With  winning  voice  and  gorgeous  imagery 
he  portrayed  the  development  of  our  vast 
resources. 

The  severest  struggle  of  the  session  was 
on  his  tariff  measure.     He  made  one  of  the 


_  Henry  Clay  _  193 

greatest  speeches  of  his  life  in  defense  of  his 
bill.  It  was  a  wonderful  debate.  Daniel 
Webster  and  Henry  Clay  opposed  to  each 
other  in  the  arena  of  appeal  and  argument, 
would  call  forth  all  the  cohorts  of  logic  and 
eloquence.  Clay  was  the  erratic,  brilliant, 
flashing  lightning,  Webster  the  lowering, 
dark  visaged  storm.  Clay  cleverly  rein 
forced  his  arguments  with  an  appeal  to 
patriotism,  a  favorite  resort  of  orators,  by 
christening  his  protection  policy  "The 
American  System,"  as  opposed  to  the  oppo 
sition  policy,  "The  Foreign  System." 
"American"  versus  "Foreign,"  could  be 
understood  by  the  multitude  who  had  the 
ballot.  This  debate  added  to  Clay's  swell 
ing  popularity.  He  was  prepared  for  the 
campaign. 

There  was  nominally  only  one  party,  and 
it  presented  four  candidates  to  the  people. 

First  in  political  intrigue  and  that  peculiar 
sagacity  required  of  the  simon-pure  poli 
ticians,  stood  Crawford.  He  had  an  in 
flated  reputation  for  greatness,  which  sud 
denly  collapsed  when  the  ballots  were  count 
ed.  History  can  do  no  greater  service  to  his 
memory  than  to  say  he  ran  against  Adams 
and  Clay.  Second  in  the  list  was  Andrew 
Jackson,  the  hero  of  New  Orleans,  grim,  un 
relenting,  always  in  a  fight  with  some  one, 
the  first  military  chieftain  who  had  dared  to 
present  himself  as  a  candidate  for  the  Pres 
idency.  Third,  came  John  Quincy  Adams, 


194    Five  American  Politicians 

who,  through  a  long  life  of  continuous 
and  conspicuous  public  service  had  prepared 
himself  for  the  high  office  he  sought.  His 
were  the  cold  austerity  of  the  Puritan,  the  dis 
tant  formality  of  the  scholar,  the  private 
virtues  of  the  purist.  And  finally,  Henry 
Clay,  the  ardent,  impulsive  impressionist, 
the  son  of  the  boundless  west,  whose  glow 
ing  sun  had  touched  his  life  with  a  redolent 
glow,  and  whose  limitless  acreage  had  in 
spired  in  him  a  faith  in  his  country  that  knew 
no  limitations.  Clay  was  not  only  popular, 
he  was  great.  He  was  not  only  an  incom 
parable  orator,  he  was  an  adroit  politician. 
He  was  not  merely  the  painter  of  fantasie, 
he  was  also  the  builder  of  causes. 

Crawford  had  been  nominated  by  the  cau 
cus,  the  machine.  He  was  the  "regular" 
candidate.  Adams  was  put  forward  by 
New  England.  He  was  the  old-fashioned 
candidate.  Jackson  was  nominated  by  a 
few  political  henchmen,  who  thought  they 
could  use  his  military  reputation  for  their 
own  gain.  He  was  the  hero  candidate. 
Clay  was  named  by  his  state,  and  by  Ohio 
and  Missouri.  He  was  the  people's  candi 
date. 

Jackson  and  Crawford  made  active  can 
vasses  for  the  election.  Jackson's  candi 
dacy  and  campaign  is  a  singular  example 
of  how  the  public  can  be  led  into  hero  wor 
ship;  how  a  candidate  can  be  built  up,  like 
a  brick  house,  piece  by  piece,  of  inconsider- 


Henry  Clay 195 

able  particles,  and  presented  as  a  finished 
product  to  a  wondering  multitude.  To  Ma 
jor  Lewis,  of  Tennessee,  Jackson  owed  the 
architecture  of  his  candidacy.  There  never 
lived  a  more  astute  political  manipulator. 
He  knew  all  the  little  doubtful  tricks  of  pol 
itics,  and  the  gullibility  of  the  people.  The 
story  of  his  treatment  of  Jackson's  case  is 
more  akin  to  romance  than  to  history. 

Adams  made  no  canvass.  It  was  far  be 
neath  him  to  intrigue  for  office  and  especially 
the  highest  office  in  the  land.  He  would  not 
even  cooperate  with  his  friends  to  aid  his 
election.  Clay  did  encourage  his  friends  to 
work  for  him,  but  he  scorned  to  use  any 
other  means  to  help  himself. 

It  was  not  a  campaign  of  issues,  for  there 
were  none.  The  discussion  centered  around 
the  candidates.  Thus  it  became  a  campaign 
of  personalities.  Adams  wrote:  "It  seems 
as  if  every  liar  and  columniator  in  the  coun 
try  was  at  work  day  and  night  to  destroy 
my  character."  All  candidates  were  sub 
ject  to  like  infamy  and  scandal.  It  would 
have  been  surprising  if,  under  the  circum 
stances,  any  one  of  the  quartette  had  re 
ceived  a  majority.  There  was  no  popular 
choice.  Jackson  had  99  electoral  votes, 
Adams  84,  Crawford  41,  Clay  37.  The 
House  of  Representatives  had  to  choose  be 
tween  the  highest  three.  The  buoyant  dis 
position  of  Clay  was  deeply  hurt  because  he 
was  not  one  of  the  three.  To  add  to  the  bit- 


196    Five  American  Politicians 

terness  of  defeat,  it  was  rumored  that  he  had 
been  cheated  out  of  five  votes  in  Louisiana 
by  a  dastardly  trick  in  the  legislature.  This 
would  have  given  him  precedence  over  Craw 
ford. 

From  presiden1>seeker  he  was  now  trans 
formed  into  the  more  powerful  president- 
maker.  His  wish  would  determine  who 
should  receive  his  electoral  votes  and  be 
come  President.  Consequently  he  became 
the  most  sought  and  most  lauded  man  in 
Washington.  Even  petulant  Jackson  for 
got  the  Florida  episode  and  warmed  up  to 
his  erstwhile  enemy.  But  Clay  had  made 
up  his  mind  as  soon  as  the  votes  had  been 
counted.  There  was  only  one  thing  for  him 
to  do.  He  could  not  vote  for  Crawford, 
now  a  paralytic.  Nor  for  Jackson,  whose 
qualifications  he  thought  lay  alone  in  his  mil 
itary  prowess.  "I  cannot/7  he  wrote  to 
Francis  Brooke,  "consent  in  this  early 
stage  of  their  existence,  by  contributing  to 
the  election  of  a  military  chieftain,  to  give 
.'  the  strongest  guaranty  that  the  Republic 
will  march  in  the  fatal  road  which  has 
conducted  every  other  republic  to  ruin." 
And  to  Blair:  "I  cannot  believe  that  the 
killing  of  2,500  Englishmen  at  New  Orleans 
qualifies  for  the  various  difficult  and  com 
plicated  duties  of  the  chief  magistracy." 

When  the  Jackson  men  began  to  suspect 
this,  they  tried  to  frighten  Clay  into  doing 
their  bidding.  The  election  was  set  for 


Henry  Clay 197 

February  ninth.  On  January  twenty-eighth, 
a  Philadelphia  paper  printed  a  letter  from 
Washington  in  which  it  was  specifically  as 
serted  that  Clay  and  Adams  had  entered  into 
a  bargain,  whereby  Adams  >vas  to  make  Clay 
secretary  of  state  in  return  for  Clay's  votes.  ; 
The  high-spirited  Clay  answered  by  a  public 
note  in  which  he  denounced  the  writer  as  a  f\^ 
"  base  and  infamous  calumniator,  and  dastard  ' 
and  liar,"  and  challenged  him  to  a  duel.  It 
turned  out  that  George  Kremer,  of  Pennsyl- 
^  vania,  was  the  writer  of  the  note.  Now,  this 
Kremer  was  one  of  your  insignificant,  il 
literate,  impecunious  runts,  who  occasion 
ally  get  sent  to  Congress.  He  was  known  in 
Washington  by  the  many  colors  of  his  coat, 
and  was  perfectly  capable  of  being  made  the 
tool  of  villainy.  Of  course,  when  the  writer 
was  disclosed,  the  humor  of  the  occasion 
drew  the  laugh  on  the  haughty  Clay.  But 
there  was  more  tragedy  than  humor  in  the 
event.  Clay  withdrew  his  challenge  on 
the  floor  of  the  house,  and  asked  for  an  in 
vestigating  committee.  The  frightened  sim 
pleton  backed  down,  and  asked  Clay  if  a  re 
traction  would  be  sufficient.  Clay  said 
"No;  the  affair  is  now  in  the  hands  of  the 
committee."  On  the  very  day  the  votes 
were  to  be  counted,  the  committee  reported 
that  Kremer  had  sent  in  a  letter  refusing  to 
testify. 

History  has  revealed  that  the  dolt  Kremer 
was  used  as  a  cat's-paw  by  the  unscrupulous 


198    Five  American  Politicians 

Lewis,  and  by  Senator  Eaton,  of  Tennessee, 
the  Jackson  managers.  They  had  writ 
ten  the  letter  to  the  Philadelphia  paper,  they 
had  been  disconcerted  by  Clay's  appeal  to 
the  house;  they  then  wrote  the  letter  to  the 
committee,  Kremer  willingly  signing  their 
literary  lies. 

Thus  did  the  wicked  imaginings  of  two 
coarse  and  utterly  unscrupulous  politicians 
give  birth  to  a  canard,  a  campaign  lie  that 
haunted  a  great  and  good  man  to  his  grave. 
For  the  cry  of  "bargain  and  corruption," 
was  raised  whenever  Henry  Clay  was  a  can 
didate  for  the  Presidency.  He  could  not  ex 
plain  it  away,  he  could  not  live  it  down. 
Such  is  the  vitality  of  a  popular  lie.  Such 
the  degradation  of  politicians,  and  such  the 
simplicity  of  the  people. 

Clay  was  always  adverse  to  bargains. 
They  were  not  part  of  his  political  machin 
ery.  He  had  written  to  Francis  Brooke 
early  in  1833:  "On  one  resolution  my 
friends  must  rest  assured  I  will  firmly  rely, 
and  that  is,  to  participate  in  no  intrigues,  to 
enter  into  no  arrangements,  to  make  no 
promises  or  pledges,  but  that,  whether  I  am 
elected  or  not,  I  will  have  nothing  to  re 
prove  myself  with." 

That  he  fully  lived  up  to  this  admirable 
resolution  is  true.  But  he  also  gave  color 
to  the  cry  of  bargain,  when  he  accepted  the 
secretaryship  of  state  under  the  new  Presi 
dent.  Then  did  his  enemies  point  their 


Henry  Clay 199 


gaunt  fingers  at  him  and  cry:     "I  told  you 
so." 

The  traditions  of  the  House  of  Representa 
tives  give  to  Clay  the  first  place  among  its 
galaxy  of  noted  speakers.  For  fourteen 
years,  excepting  several  inconsiderable  in 
terruptions,  he  had  presided  continuously 
over  its  deliberations.  Never  had  one  of  his 
decisions  been  reversed.  Through  the  tu 
mult  of  the  Florida  episode,  the  rancor  of 
the  Missouri  controversy,  the  turmoil  of  tar 
iff  and  internal  improvement  debates,  he 
guided  the  affairs  of  the  house  v/ith  calm  and 
steady  hand.  Absolute  self-possession,  ex 
act  knowledge  of  parliamentary  laws,prompt- 
ness  in  decision,  dignified  courtesy  and  uni 
versal  impartiality  united  to  make  him  a 
great  speaker.  He  made  an  ideal  parlia 
mentarian,  and  he  knew  it.  With  reluc 
tance  did  he  give  up  the  congenial  role  of 
speaker  to  assume  the  irksome  duties  of  sec 
retary  of  state.  To  Brooke  he  writes:  "I 
-have  an  unaffected  repugnance  to  any  exec 
utive  employment,  and  my  rejection  of  the 
offer,  if  it  were  in  conformity  with  their  [his 
friends']  deliberate  judgment,  would  have 
been  more  compatible  with  my  feelings  than 
its  acceptance." 

During  the  four  years  of  his  premiership 
the  political  alignment  that  had  been  made 
inevitable  by  the  stirring  events  of  the  pre 
vious  decade  took  visible  form.  There  was 


2oo    Five  American  Politicians 

no  issue  around  which  these  diverse  elements 
would  rally.  The  one  Great  Issue  was  avoid 
ed  by  both.  So  men,  not  causes,  became  the 
nuclei  of  the  new  political  concretions.  Is 
sues  were  evolved  later.  Indeed,  at  this 
formative  period,  all  the  leaders  professed 
to  believe  about  the  same  thing.  Jackson 
had  written  a  letter  in  1824,  affirming  his 
faith  in  protection;  he  had  not  appeared 
hostile  to  the  bank,  and  had  voted  for  some 
internal  improvements. 

The  differentiation  of  issues  was  inevit 
able,  however,  because  two  elements  hostile 
in  philosophy  were  lurking  behind  the  po 
litical  leaders.  The  Great  Issue  was  fought 
out  on  the  question  of  Nationalism  versus 
Sectionalism.  The  political  philosophy  that 
underlay  the  issue  was  state  rights  versus  fed 
eral  rights,  and  the  constitutional  philosophy 
that  supported  these  diverse  views  was 
strict  construction  versus  loose  construction. 
A  believer  in  slavery  would  naturally  be  a 
state-rights  man,  and  a  strict  construction- 
alist.  A  believer  in  slavery  restriction  placed 
the  union  above  the  state,  nor  could  he  deem 
a  narrow  adhesion  to  the  constitution  a  virtue. 

But  neither  political  philosophy  nor  con 
stitutional  theories  are  the  motives  that 
prompt  a  people  to  action.  They  do  not 
think  so  deeply.  More  superficial  must  be 
the  motive  that  will  arouse  them  to  action. 
The  profound  depths  of  national  conviction 
that  in  the  lapse  of  years  determine  a  na- 


Henry  Clay 201 

tion's  destiny,  are  not  apparent  to  the  super 
ficial  observer  or  the  hysterical  ballot  ven 
dor.  But  the  great  depths  support  the  tu 
multuous  waves  of  the  surface,  they  bear 
on  their  bosom  the  onward  sweep  of  re 
sistless  tides.  The  petty  fro  things  of  an  hour, 
the  selfish  passions  of  party  leaders,  the  cruel 
superficiality  of  the  unthinking  are  but  triv 
ial  events  in  the  majestic  progress  of  the  tide 
of  self-government. 

It  is  decreed  that  to  give  practical  aspect 
to  a  political  movement,  there  must  be  a 
personality  to  rally  the  fancies  and  passions 
of  the  people;  there  must  be  a  slogan  to 
please  their  ears  and  deceive  their  under 
standing  into  the  belief  that  it  represents  a 
profound  issue.  But  in  the  end,  the  people 
will  be  right.  It  took  nearly  a  century  to 
fight  out  the  Great  Issue.  It  was  dodged, 
evaded,  avoided,  until  the  fullness  of  time 
arrived,  then  it  was  settled. 

We  will  trace  the  political  events  that  led 
almost  to  this  consummation. 

On  October  13,  1825,  Jackson  resigned 
from  the  senate  and  accepted  the  nomina 
tion  for  President  tendered  him  by  the  legis 
lature  of  Tennessee.  Thus  he  began  a  three 
years'  campaign.  His  platform  was  "The 
corruption  of  the  Adams  administration," 
his  slogans  were  "Bargain  and  corruption," 
and  "Turn  the  rascals  out!"  His  motive 
was  no  doubt  sincere,  but  it  assumed  the 
shape  of  vindictive  revenge. 


2O2    Five  American  Politicians 

It  was  not  long  before  opportunity  offered 
itself  to  bring  the  Jackson  partisans  upon 
the  constitutional  theory  which  was  their 
true  platform.  President  Adams  earnestly 
advocated  internal  improvements.  As  a 
matter  of  course  his  enemies  opposed  him. 
This  raised  the  issue  of  the  constitutionality 
of  his  recommendations.  He  said  that  it  is 
implied  in  the  constitution  that  the  govern 
ment  has  plenary  power  to  develop  our  na 
tional  resources.  He  was  answered  that  what 
powers  were  not  definitely  delegated  to  the 
national  government  reposed  with  the  vari 
ous  states.  Thus  the  leopard  showed  his 
spots. 

The  struggle  between  congress  and  the 
administration  grew  daily  in  bitterness. 
Vindictive  John  Randolph,  the  viper  of  Vir 
ginia,  called  the  administration  "the  coali 
tion  of  Bilfel  and  Black  George,  the  combina 
tion,  unheard  of  till  then,  of  the  Puritan  with 
the  Black  Leg."  Clay  indiscreetly  chal 
lenged  Randolph  to  a  duel  for  this  public 
slander.  The  Virginian  shot  into  the  air, 
Clay  put  a  hole  through  Randolph's  coat. 
Benton  then  brought  about  a  formal  con 
ciliation. 

While  the  opposition  had  settled  them 
selves  upon  the  constitutional  formula  of 
strict  construction,  they  by  no  means  aban 
doned  the  popular  method  of  warfare.  Their 
harangues  upon  the  constitutionality  of  in 
ternal  improvements  did  not  interest  the 


Henry  Clay  203 

people.  Again  and  again  did  they  dig  open 
the  grave  of  "bargain  and  corruption/'  after 
Clay  and  his  friends  had  thought  they  had 
buried  the  slander  deep,  effectually  and  for 
ever.  The  shroud  was  unwound  and  the 
ghastly  decaying  corpse  displayed  to  full 
view.  Sight  and  stench  were  to  drive  the 
people  into  a  frenzy.  And  the  politicians 
succeeded. 

Jackson  himself  now  believed  the  lie.  On 
his  way  from  congress,  in  1824,  he  was  greet 
ed  at  Washington,  Pa.,  by  a  group  of  ad 
mirers.  One  of  them,  an  aged  farmer,  said 
to  him:  "Well,  General,  we  did  all  we 
could  for  you  here,  but  the  rascals  at  Wash 
ington  cheated  you  out  of  it."  Jackson  re 
plied:  "Indeed,  my  old  friend,  there  was 
cheating,  and  corruption  and  bribery,  too." 
When  Jackson'^  faith  once  gripped  an  idea 
it  never  let  go. 

As  the  canvass  between  Adams  and  Jack 
son  advanced,  the  fury  and  frenzy  of  the 
politicians  increased.  The  stump  reeked 
with  slander.  Letters  and  pamphlets  fell 
over  the  land  like  snowflakes.  David  Trim 
ble  wrote  a  dissertation  of  forty  pages,  re 
viewing  the  evidences  of  the  slander.  And 
people  read  those  things.  Floyd,  of  Vir 
ginia,  told  his  constituents  they  were  "now 
engaged  in  a  great  war,  a  war  of  patronage 
and  power  against  patriotism  of  the  people." 
How  strange  this  alliteration  reads  in  the 
light  of  the  Jackson  reign  of  proscription! 


2O4    Five  American  Politicians 

Day  after  day,  line  upon  line,  the  Jackson 
press  reiterated  in  staring  headlines  the  cry 
of  "  Bargain  and  Corruption,"  until  it  seemed 
the  people  should  have  turned,  nauseated 
by  the  sight. 

The  debates  in  congress  were  turned  into 
the  most  scurrilous  stump  speeches. 

This  strange  campaign  of  no  issues  was 
fought  with  weapons  of  slander  and  preju 
dice. 

Its  outcome  was  significant  of  the  pro 
found  changes  that  had  come  over  the  Re 
public  since  the  days  of  Federalism.  Jack 
son  received  178  votes,  Adams  83.  Clay, 
not  Adams,  was  the  center  of  attack.  He 
could  not  move  in  any  capacity  without  be 
ing  preeminent.  Yet  the  crushing  results 
of  the  election,  while  they  dismayed  him 
for  the  moment,  did  not  veil  the  presidential 
office  from -his  gaze.  Before  he  retired  from 
the  cabinet  he  made  inquiry  of  Edward 
Everett  whether  New  England  would  sup 
port  him  in  1832.  Restless  spirit  that  pos 
sessed  his  soul,  like  a  never  satiated  wander 
lust. 

On  his  way  home  from  Washington, 
Adams  spoke  these  words  for  his  secretary 
of  state: 

"  Upon  him  the  foulest  slanders  have  been 
showered.  The  department  of  the  state 
itself  was  a  station  which,  by  its  bestowal, 
could  confer  neither  profit  nor  honor  upon 
him,  but  upon  which  he  has  shed  unfading 


Henry  Clay 205 

honor  by  the  manner  in  which  he  has  dis 
charged  his  duties.  Prejudice  and  passion 
have  charged  him  with  obtaining  that  office 
by  bargain  and  corruption.  Before  you,  my 
fellow  citizens,  in  the  presence  of  our  country 
and  heaven,  I  pronounce  that  charge  1x> 
tally  unfounded.  As  to  my  motives  for  ten 
dering  him  the  department  of  state,  when 
I  did,  let  the  man  who  questions  them  come 
forward.  Let  him  look  around  among  the 
statesmen  and  the  legislators  of  the  nation 
and  of  that  day.  Let  him  then  select  and 
name  the  man  whom,  by  his  preeminent 
talents,  by  his  splendid  services,  by  his  ar 
dent  patriotism,  by  his  all  embracing  public 
spirit,  by  his  fervid  eloquence  in  behalf  of 
the  rights  and  liberties  of  mankind,  by  his 
long  experience  in  the  affairs  of  the  Union, 
foreign  and  domestic,  a  President  of  the 
United  States,  intent  only  upon  the  honor 
and  welfare  of  his  country,  ought  to  have 
preferred  to  Henry  Clay." 

This  was  the  best  praise  Clay  ever  received. 
For  Adams  was  not  given  to  exuberance  and 
he  was  as  critical  as  he  was  scrupulous.  But 
the  people  would  not  believe  even  John 
Quincy  Adams. 

The  antagonistic  elements  were  now  com 
pletely  separated.  The  Jacksonians,  united 
by  victory  and  under  the  sway  of  a  political 
despot,  presented  the  front  of  a  real  party. 
Three  years  of  perfect  party  discipline  had 
ranged  them  into  compact  ranks.  They 


206    Five  American  Politicians 

had  everything  to  make  a  party  except  issues. 
They  had  a  leader,  they  had  an  organization, 
they  had  a  victory,  and  with  such  a  leader 
as  theirs  they  were  not  long  in  finding  a  cause. 

There  were  now  in  reality  two  parties,  but 
each  claimed  to  be  the  genuine  old  Republi 
can  or  Democratic  party.  The  Jacksonians 
called  themselves  the  Democratic  Republi 
cans,  the  Clay-Adams  followers  the  National 
Republicans.  All  old  party  alignments 
had  ceased.  Jeffersonians  were  in  both  ranks, 
and  in  each  were  found  remnants  of  the  Fed- 
deralists.  The  new  alignment  was  complete. 

These  new  armies  were  led  by  two  leaders 
as  different  as  day  and  night.  Jackson  was 
always  fanatic;  Clay  was  rarely  dogmatic. 
Jackson  ruled  with  the  imperium  of  will; 
Clay  swayed  with  the  magic  of  eloquence. 
Jackson  was  a  man  of  hate;  Clay  was  a  man 
of  love.  Not  to  agree  with  Jackson  was  to 
call  upon  you  the  retribution  of  his  mighty 
anger.  Not  to  agree  with  Clay  was  to  invite 
his  smile  and  his  most  beguiling  arguments. 
Jackson  believed  that  every  man  who  did 
not  believe  in  him  was  a  traitor  to  the  flag; 
Clay  believed  that  every  man  who  loved 
the  flag  was  a  friend  of  intellectual  freedom. 
Jackson  was  all  thunder  and  lightning  and 
destructive  tornado;  Clay  was  all  sunshine 
and  dew  and  gentle  rain.  Jackson  was  terri 
ble;  Clay  was  magnificent.  Jackson  in 
spired  trembling  fear  and  deadly  hate;  Clay 
called  forth  all  the  hosts  of  confidence  and 


Henry  Clay  207 

affection.  Jackson  was  commanding;  Clay 
was  gallant.  Jackson  compelled;  Clay  at 
tracted.  Yet  they  were  similar.  Both 
were  "men  of  the  people";  both  were  wor 
shipped  by  the  masses ;  both  were  called  upon 
as  the  saviour  of  the  land;  both  shared  the 
fatuation  of  a  devoted  following;  both  were 
richly  endowed  with  the  gift  of  personal 
magnetism. 

The  election  brought  to  Clay  a  welcome 
retirement.  Before  he  left  Washington,  he 
was  given  a  dinner.  The  toast  he  proposed 
signifies  the  feelings  which  were  inspired  by 
the  election  of  Jackson.  This  was  the  toast: 
"Let  us  never  despair  of  the  American  Re 
public."  In  reply  he  said:  "I  deprecated 
the  election  of  the  present  President  of  the 
United  States  because  I  believed  he  had 
neither  the  temper,  the  experience,  nor  the 
attainments  requisite  to  discharge  the  compli 
cated  and  arduous  duties  of  the  chief  magis 
trate.  I  deprecated  it  still  more  because  his 
elevation,  I  believed,  wou]d  be  the  result  ex 
clusively  of  admiration  and  gratitude  for  mili 
tary  service,  without  regard  to  indispensable 
civil  qualifications.  I  thought  I  beheld  in  his 
election  an  awful  foreboding  of  the  fate 
which  at  some  future  (I  pray  God  that  if  it 
ever  arises  it  be  at  some  far  distant)  day 
was  to  befall  this  infant  republic."  But  he 
closes  his  rather  doleful  strain  by  gallantly 
professing  that  he  will  respect  the  victor 
"  as  the  chief  magistrate  of  my  country." 


208    Five  American  Politicians 

His  journey  home  was  a  series  of  ovations. 
Everywhere  he  was  met  by  the  outpouring 
of  the  populace,  and  the  most  flattering  evi 
dences  of  personal  devotion.  At  Frederick, 
Md.,  he  said,  at  a  dinner  in  his  honor:  "I 
quit  the  public  councils,  not  only  without 
any  personal  regrets,  but  with  the  highest 
of  all  human  consolation,  that  which  is  not 
only  superior  to  any  other,  but  the  want  of 
which  cannot  be  compensated  by  the  united 
possessions  of  all  others,  which  lies  deeply 
embossed  in  the  heart,  beyond  the  reach  of 
human  injustice,  the  consciousness  of  having 
faithfully,  zealously  and  consistently  dis 
charged  my  public  duties."  This  was  fer 
vently  believed  by  a  large  mass  of  his  fellow 
citizens,  but  a  larger  mass  as  religiously  be 
lieved  he  had  cheated  Jackson  out  of  victory 
four  years  before. 

When  he  reached  his  own  Lexington  a 
monster  meeting  was  gathered  to  greet  him 
as  neighbor.  To  these  dear  friends  he 
always  spoke  with  sincere  feeling.  This  was 
their  sentiment:  "Our  distinguished  guest, 
friend  and  neighbor,  Henry  Clay:  with  in 
creased  proof  of  his  worth,  we  delight  to  re 
new  the  assurance  of  our  confidence  in  his  pa 
triotism,  talents,  and  incorruptibility;  may 
health  and  happiness  attend  him  and  a 
grateful  nation  do  justice  to  his  virtues." 
In  his  response  Clay  made  an  elaborate  de 
fense  of  his  attitude  toward  Jackson,  pointed 
out  that  there  was  no  bargain  and  no  cor- 


Henry  Clay  209 

ruption,  and  denounced  the  President  for 
his  wholesale  slaughter  of  federal  officials. 
He  closed  the  speech,  one  of  the  best  of  his 
efforts,  with  personal  allusions  that  reveal 
the  true  heart  of  the  man:  "And  now,  my 
friends  and  fellow  citizens,  I  cannot  part 
from  you  on  possibly  this  last  occasion  of 
my  ever  publicly  addressing  you,  without 
reiterating  the  expressions  of  my  thanks 
from  a  heart  overflowing  with  gratitude.  I 
came  among  you  now  more  than  thirty  years 
ago,  an  orphan  boy,  penniless,  stranger  to 
you  all,  without  friends,  without  the  favor 
of  the  great.  You  took  me  up,  cherished 
me,  caressed  me,  protected  me,  honored  me. 
You  have  constantly  poured  upon  me  a  bold 
and  unabated  stream  of  innumerable  favors. 
Time,  which  wears  out  everything,  has  in 
creased  and  strengthened  your  affection  for 
me.  When  I  seem  deserted  by  almost  the 
whole  world,  and  assailed  by  almost  every 
tongue  and  pen,  you  have  fearlessly  and 
manfully  stood  by  me  with  unsurpassed 
zeal  and  undiminished  friendship.  When  I 
felt  as  if  I  should  sink  beneath  the  storm  of 
abuse  and  detraction  which  was  violently 
raging  around  me,  I  have  found  myself  up 
held  and  sustained  by  your  encouraging 
voice  and  your  approving  smiles.  I  have 
doubtless  committed  many  faults  and  indis 
cretions,  over  which  you  have  thrown  the 
broad  mantle  of  your  charity.  But  I  can 
say,  and  in  the  presence  of  God,  and  of  this 


14 


2io    Five  American  Politicians 

assembled  multitude,  I  will  say,  that  I  have 
honestly  and  faithfully  served  my  country, 
that  I  have  never  wronged  it,  and  that  how 
ever  unprepared  I  lament  that  I  am  to  ap 
pear  in  the  Divine  Presence  on  other  ac 
counts,  I  invoke  the  stern  justice  of  His 
judgment  on  my  public  conduct  without  the 
smallest  apprehension  of  His  displeasure." 

These  confessions  as  to  his  patriotic  mo 
tives  and  integrity,  made  to  his  neighbors,  are 
sustained  by  history.  But  to  the  public  at 
large,  his  utterances  did  not  carry  convic 
tion.  The  public  has  no  mercy  on  a  man 
who  must  prove  that  he  is  an  honest  man. 
Clay's  enemies  saw  to  it  that  for  thirty  years 
he  was  placed  on  this  defense. 

Nor  could  Clay  remain  in  retirement.  A 
number  of  times  in  his  career  did  he  resolve 
to  retire  to  his  beloved  "  Ashland'/'  each 
time  the  call  of  the  state  and  the  impulse  of 
talent  broke  his  resolution.  At  this  time 
he  devoted  himself  to  the  cultivation  of  his 
estate,  the  breeding  of  fine  animals,  and  the 
writing  of  letters.  In  1830  he  journeyed 
south,  to  New  Orleans  and  Natchez.  As 
always,  his  progress  was  marked  by  balls, 
receptions,  dinners,  processions,  triumphs, 
In  the  summer  of  the  same  year  he  traveled 
northward  through  Ohio.  Farms  and  towns 
were  deserted  to  do  him  honor.  At  Cincin 
nati  he  was  feted  by  the  mechanics,  and  he 
spoke  freely  on  the  tariff.  Of  the  charges 
against  his  character,  he  appealed  to  his 


Henry  Clay  211 

auditors:  "People  of  Ohio,  here  assembled, 
mothers,  daughters,  sons,  sires,  when  resting 
on  the  peaceful  pillow  of  repose  and  con 
ning  within  your  hearts,  ask  yourselves  if  I 
ought  to  be  the  unremitting  object  of  per 
petual  calumny.  If,  when  the  opponents  of 
the  late  President  gained  the  victory  on  the 
4th  of  March,  1829,  the  war  ought  not  to 
have  ceased,  quarters  been  granted  and 
prisoners  released?  Did  not  these  oppo 
nents  obtain  all  the  honors  and  offices  and 
emoluments  of  the  government,  the  power 
which  they  have  frequently  exercised  of 
removing  whom  they  pleased  and  punishing 
whom  they  could,  was  that  not  sufficient? 
Does  it  all  avail  not  whilst  Mordecai  the  Jew 
stands  at  the  King's  gate?" 

It  availed  not.  The  one  upon  whom  the 
special  punishment  should  fall  was  Clay,  and 
Clay  was  an  immortal  foe,  he  could  not  be 
stricken.  The  persecution  must  therefore 
continue. 

The  old  ambition  was  again  the  ferment 
in  Clay's  mind.  His  princely  receptions  de 
ceived  him.  "I  have  had,"  he  writes  a 
friend,  "literally  a  free  passage.  Taverns, 
stages,  toll  gates,  have  been  formally  thrown 
open  to  me,  free  from  all  charge.  Monarchs 
might  be  proud  of  the  reception  with  which 
I  have  everywhere  been  honored."  And  he 
says  to  one  of  his  great  audiences:  "My 
journey  has  been  marked  by  a  succession  of 
civil  triumphs.  I  have  been  escorted  from 


212    Five  American  Politicians 

village  to  village,  and  have  everywhere 
found  myself  surrounded  by  large  con 
courses  of  my  fellow  citizens,  often  of  both 
sexes,  greeting  and  welcoming  me." 

It  is  not  to  be  wondered  that  the  sanguine 
candidate  misinterpreted  these  flattering 
demonstrations.  He  thought  they  foretold 
the  downfall  of  Jackson.  Had  he  been 
clearer  sighted,  he  would  have  perceived 
that  Jackson  might  have  followed  him  over 
the  same  route  and  been  the  recipient  of 
the  same  flattery  and  obeisance.  With  such 
evidences  of  favor,  Clay  could  easily  be  per 
suaded  to  leave  the  joys  of  privacy  and  take 
a  seat  in  the  United  States  senate,  to  which 
he  was  elected  in  1831. 

When  he  arrived  again  in  Washington,  the 
Jackson  Democracy  had  an  issue.  The 
President  believed  that  the  United  States 
bank  was  the  enemy  of  the  Republic,  for  it 
would  not  bend  to  his  command.  There 
fore,  he  directed  against  it  all  the  poisoned 
arrows  of  his  quiver.  The  Calhoun  school 
of  strict  construction  at  once  perceived  that 
a  constitutional  argument  was  at  hand. 
The  government  had  no  power  to  organize 
and  run  a  banking  business.  They  were  be 
ginning  to  see  more  and  more  clearly  that 
the  interests  of  their  own  cause  demanded 
strict  construction  and  states-rights.  With 
prompt  eagerness  they  could  supplement 
Jackson's  instinct  writh  an  argument.  When 
Clay  took  his  seat  in  the  senate  he  at  once 


Henry  Clay  213 


came  to  the  defense  of  the  bank  which  had 
prayed  for  a  renewal  of  its  charter.  Bent  on, 
Jackson's  spokesman  in  the  senate,  could 
not  defeat  the  bill  granting  the  extension. 
But  Jackson  unhesitatingly  vetoed  the  meas 
ure  and  sent  it  beak  to  congress  with  an  im 
passioned  veto  message.  The  message  was 
not  an  argument,  it  was  the  rhapsody  of  an 
angry  soul.  Neither  the  majestic  thunder 
of  Webster  nor  the  passionate  denunciations 
of  Clay,  nor  the  ringing  arguments  of  Ewing, 
nor  the  unsparing  satire  of  Clayton,  could 
drown  the  strains  of  that  veto  measure.  Its 
voice  rang  over  the  land  like  a  trumpet  call, 
and  the  people  willingly  responded  to  its 
notes. 

The  tariff  formed  the  second  issue.  Con 
gress  had  passed  the  "  tariff  ^of  abomina 
tions  "  the  previous  session.  ^The  agricul 
tural  south  denounced  it,  the  manufacturing 
north  wanted  it.  The  planters  of  the  slave 
states  were  arrayed  against  the  manufactur 
ers  of  the  free  states.  The  enemies  of  the 
tariff  made  the  accumulated  surplus  in 
the  national  treasury  the  point  of  their  as 
saults.  Jackson,  who  had  been  a  mild  be 
liever  in  protection,  gradually  became  sus 
picious  of  a  system  that  could  rob  the  farmer 
and  heap  up  an  idle  surplus  in  the  govern 
ment  vaults.  It  needed  but  the  advent  of 
Henry  Clay,  as  champion  of  the  tariff,  to 
make  the  President  a  profound  enemy  of 
the  "American  System." 


214    Five  American  Politicians 

A  third  issue  that  the  National  Republicans 
kept  in  the  foreground  was  the  "Spoils  Sys 
tem/'  as  introduced  by  Jackson.  These 
were  the  issues. 

There  was  but  one  presidential  candidate 
in  each  party,  and  on  December  12,  1831,  in 
a  convention  held  at  Baltimore,  Henry  Clay 
was  unanimously  named  by  the  National 
Republicans  to  be  their  standard  bearer. 
The  following  May  the  Democratic  conven 
tion  nominated  Jackson. 

Against  the  cry  of  "  Spoils  System,"  the 
Democrats  shouted  the  old  cry  of  "  Bargain 
and  Corruption."  Against  the  arguments 
for  a  re-charter  of  the  Bank,  they  hurled 
back  the  ominous  words  "Monster  monop 
oly."  And  in  reply  to  the  favorite  argu 
ments  for  the  "American  System,"  they 
pointed  to  the  glittering  pile  of  "surplus." 

Thus  the  Democrats  had  the  popular  side 
of  every  question.  They  very  wisely  kept 
Clay  in  the  background.  It  was  not  a  war 
fare  against  the  "Gallant  Harry  of  the 
West,"  it  was  a  struggle  against  the  powers 
and  principalists  of  monopoly.  The  mon 
eyed  robbers  of  the  common  people, 
were  the  magnified  objects  of  popular  wrath. 
These  Democrats  had  a  perfect  organization. 
The  skilled  hand  of  Martin  Van  Buren  was 
felt  in  every  county  and  village  of  the  land. 
But  more  than  discipline  and  popular  slo 
gans,  they  had  a  general  who  had  grown  in 
the  eyes  of  the  multitude  until  his  stature 


Henry  Clay 215 

filled  all  space.  He  was  no  longer  "Old 
Hickory."  To  the  backwoodsman  and  the 
plainsman  he  was  a  demi-god,  under  whose 
almighty  sword  must  fall  all  the  enemies  of 
mankind. 

Little  wonder  that  the  Imperator  of  Dem 
ocracy  should  receive  219  electoral  votes, 
while  his  brilliant  adversary  could  count 
only  49. 

To  the  last  the  National  Republicans  had 
been  sanguine.  But  all  the  constellations 
were  unfavorable.  Clay  had  displeased  the 
south  by  his  attitude  on  the  tariff,  he  had 
alienated  the  masses  by  his  championship  of 
the  bank,  he  had  gained  nothing  by  his  ter 
rible  onslaught  upon  Jackson.  He  could  easily 
have  afforded  to  have  been  more  conciliating 
with  the  planters,  to  have  delayed  the  bank 
issue  until  after  the  election,  and  to  have 
banished  the  words  "  military  dictator," 
from  his  lips.  Had  Henry  Clay,  the  pacifi 
cator,  been  running,  his  humility  might  have 
been  spared;  but  Henry  Clay,  the  party 
cheiftan,  was  brought  down  to  utter  humilia 
tion  by  Andrew  Jackson,  the  people's 
Csesar. 

The  shadows  of  defeat  but  served  to  bring 
out  more  clearly  the  brilliance  of  his  genius. 
Events  were  transpiring  which  lifted  him 
from  the  depths  of  his  humiliations  into  the 
splendor  of  a  nation's  admiration.  Henry 
Clay  is  the  most  defeated  and  the  most  ad 
mired  man  in  our  political  history.  Each 


216    Five  American  Politicians 

defeat  seemed  but  the  prelude  to  greater 
achievement. 

When  he  returned  to  the  senate  the  coun 
try  was  confronted  by  a  novel  theory  that 
threatened  disaster.  The  south  had  grown 
sullen  under  the  continued  tariff  legislation. 
Her  philosophic  statesman  had  formulated 
her  demands  into  the  theory  of  nullification, 
arguing  that  the  constitution  is  only  a  com 
pact  between  sovereign  states,  and  that 
whenever  one  of  the  parties  to  this  compact 
considers  a  law  passed  by  Congress  unconsti 
tutional,  it  has  merely  to  ignore,  to  "nullify" 
the  law.  Here  was  a  new  system  of  polit 
ical  metaphysics.  South  Carolina  was  eager 
to  enforce  it  with  the  power  of  arms.  "If 
the  tariff  law  is  not  repealed,  we  will  nullify 
it/'  was  their  audacious  manifesto.  Jack 
son  was  a  southern  man,  but  his  patriotism 
wTas  national.  His  proclamation  in  answer 
to  the  nullifiers  was  uncompromising:  "I 
consider  the  power  to  annul  a  law  of  the 
United  States  incompatible  with  the  exist 
ence  of  the  union,  contradicted  expressly  by 
the  letter  of  the  constitution,  and  destruct 
ive  of  the  great  objects  for  w.hich  it  was 
formed.  Our  constitution  does  not  contain 
the  absurdity  of  giving  one  power  to  make 
laws,  and  another  power  to  resist  them.  To 
say  that  any  state  may  at  pleasure  secede 
from  the  union,  is  to  say  that  the  United 
States  are  not  a  nation."  And  in  stirring 
words  he  warns  the  rash  southerners  that 


Henry  Clay 217 

further  resistance  would  be  met  by  all  the 
power  of  the  general  government. 

In  their  insane  self-fatuation,  the  South 
Carolinians  replied  with  insolent  threats. 
This  infuriated  the  old  patriot,  and  he  asked 
congress  for  power  to  close  ports  of  entry, 
employ  military  force,  and  extend  the  juris 
diction  of  federal  courts  over  all  revenue 
cases.  This  "Force  Bill"  the  milliners  at 
once  called  the  "Bloody  Bill." 

Congress,  meanwhile,  was  busy  with  the 
tariff.  Verplank  had  introduced  the  ad 
ministration  measure  into  the  house,  provid 
ing  for  general  reductions  in  duties.  The 
manufacturers  were  fearful  of  the  results, 
and  invaded  the  capitol.  No  agreement 
could  be  reached.  The  house  was  helpless, 
and  the  senate  was  floundering  around  in  con 
stitutional  arguments  on  the  "Force  Bill." 

The  situation  seemed  hopeless.  A  second 
time  one  state  was  holding  up  the  nation. 
A  second  time  a  conciliator  appeared.  Just 
twenty  days  before  the  final  adjournment 
of  congress,  Henry  Clay,  the  father  of  the 
"American  System,"  who  had  fought  with 
the  energy  of  a  tiger  the  reduction  of  tariff 
in  1832,  now  introduced  a  compromise  bill 
providing  a  reduction  of  20  per  cent.  The 
manufacturers  and  politicians  were  aghast. 
Had,  then,  the  champion  of  protection  back 
slidden? 

Clay's  heart  was  in  the  compromise.  He 
formed  his  measure  with  the  avowed  pur- 


218    Five  American  Politicians 

pose  of  conciliating  the  southerners.  He 
loved  the  union  better  than  a  tariff.  He 
dreaded  the  thought  of  the  military  Jack 
son  leading  an  army  into  South  Carolina. 
Where  would  such  an  invasion  end? 

Clay's  task  was  cut  out  for  him.  He  had 
first  of  all  to  win  over  his  political  adher 
ents  ;  men  who  had  stood  by  him  in  the  past 
campaign,  and  who  now  realized  that  their 
inflexible  attitude  toward  the  planters  had 
brought  on  the  defeat  of  their  favorite  candi 
date.  He  had  also  to  persuade  the  manufac 
turers,  whose  lobby  thronged  the  corridors. 
He  had  finally  to  win  the  milliners,  whose  hot 
blood  was  rapidly  consuming  their  reason. 
Strange  anomaly,  he  won  over  the  Philos 
opher  of  Nullification  first!  Calhoun, 
champion  of  state  rights,  father  of  seces 
sion,  defender  of  slavery,  was  astute  enough 
to  see  that  the  compromise  was  better  than 
the  fruitless  struggle  of  one  state  against  the 
many.  He  became  the  first  convert. 

His  immediate  friends  Clay  won  by  persua 
sion,  by  cajoling,  by  entreaty,  by  arguing. 
But  the  manufacturers,  who  had  financial 
interests  at  stake,  could  be  mollified  only  by 
an  amendment  providing  for  home  valua 
tion    of    imports.     The    amendment,    only 
after  the  direst  threats,  was  accepted. 
j      The  house  bill  passed  the  senate  first. 
j  Clay  ended  the  debate  on  his  compromise  in 
1  one  of  his  noblest  and  most  fervid  appeals. 
All  the  glorious  powers  of  the  orator  were 


Henry  Clay  219 


lavished  upon  this  cause.  He  became  ani 
mate  with  patriotism,  as  he  proceeded  to  ex 
plain  his  motives,  and  closed  in  a  magnifi 
cent  outburst  of  feeling:  "I  have  been  ac 
cused  of  ambition  in  presenting  this  meas 
ure.  Ambition !  inordinate  ambition !  Low 
grovelling  souls,  who  are  utterly  incapable 
of  elevating  themselves  to  the  higher  and 
nobler  duties  of  pure  patriotism,  beings  who, 
forever  keeping  their  own  selfish  aims  in 
view,  decide  all  public  measures  by  their 
personal  influence  in  their  aggrandizement, 
judge  me  by  the  venal  rule  which  they  pre 
scribe  for  themselves.  I  am  no  candidate 
for  any  office  in  the  gift  of  these  states, 
united  or  separated.  I  never  wish,  or  ex 
pect  to  be.  Pass  this  bill,  tranquillize  the 
country,  restore  confidence  and  affection  in 
the  union,  and  I  am  willing  to  go  to  Ashland 
and  renounce  public  service  forever.  Yes, 
I  have  ambition.  But  it  is  the  ambition  of 
being  the  humblest  instrument  in  the  hands 
of  Providence,  to  reconcile  a  divided  people, 
once  more  to  revive  concord  and  harmony 
in  a  distracted  land;  the  pleasing  ambition 
of  contemplating  the  glorious  spectacle  of  a 
free,  united,  prosperous  and  fraternal  peo 
ple." 

•  The  appeal  was  not  in  vain.  The  bill 
passed  both  houses,  as  did  the  Force  Bill, 
and  both  received  the  President's  signature. 
The  nullifiers  hauled  down  their  insolent 
banners.  The  nation  breathed  freely.  Hen- 


220    Five  American  Politicians 

ry  Clay  was  once  more  the  popular  idol,  the 
twice  crowned  Pacificator. 

But  while  he  was  thus  to  behold  again 
"the  glorious  spectacle  of  a  free  and  united, 
prosperous  and  fraternal  people,"  his  com 
promise  had  united  them  only  for  the  mo 
ment.  His  superficial  way  of  studying 
causes  had  again  failed  to  enlighten  him 
upon  the  one  true  wellspring  of  all  this  anti- 
union  current.  He  failed  to  see  that  slavery 
was  at  the  foundation  of  nullification,  as  it 
had  been  at  the  bottom  of  the  Missouri  agi 
tation.  Slavery  was  the  Great  Issue. 

After  the  adjournment  of  congress,  Pres 
ident  Jackson  made  a  tour  of  New  York 
and  the  New  England  states.  He  was  ev 
erywhere  met  by  the  acclaims  of  the  popu 
lace.  His  stout  resistance  to  the  nullifiers 
had  won  him  the  sincere  admiration  of  his 
former  enemies. 

A  month  later  Clay,  too,  journeyed  east. 
It  was  his  first  visit  to  New  York  since  1818. 
His  tour  was  accompanied  by  all  the  bizarre 
elements  of  the  progress  of  a  prince.  He 
traveled  as  a  conqueror,  not  as  a  defeated  can 
didate.  His  lady  was  with  him,  to  share  in 
the  honors.  Municipalities  and  farms  were 
deserted  to  greet  the  "  Gallant  Harry/' 
From  town  to  town  he  was  escorted  by  com 
mittees  of  leading  citizens.  The  booming 
of  cannon  announced  his  approach,  bands 
and  parades  accompanied  his  entrance  into 
every  town  and  city.  The  streets  along 


Henry  Clay 221 

which  he  traveled  were  gaily  decorated. 
Everywhere  were  given  balls  and  receptions 
and  dinners,  most  of  which  he  had  to  de 
cline.  At  Wilmington,  Philadelphia,  New 
York,  Providence,  and  Boston  his  reception 
was  especially  cordial. 

He  could  write  to  Brooke  on  his  return: 
"My  journey  was  full  of  gratification.  In 
looking  back  on  the  scenes  through  wilich  I 
passed,  they  seem  to  me  to  have  resembled 
those  of  enchantment  more  than  of  real  life." 

Thus  the  rival  princes,  the  "  Great  Pacifi 
cator  "and  the  "  Conqueror  of  Nullification" 
had  their  rival  progresses.  The  over-san 
guine  Clay  again  was  made  buoyant  at  the 
sound  of  universal  plaudits;  the  prospects 
of  another  presidential  election  were  bright. 

The  Democratic  papers  dropped  a  little  gall 
into  the  cup  of  sweetness.  The  Washing 
ton  "Globe"  asserted  that  the  United  States 
Bank  had  paid  at  least  $25,000  "  directly 
into  his  own  pockets  to  save  him  from  pe 
cuniary,  as  well  as  political  bankruptcy." 
"  Having,  by  duping  his  followers,  se 
cured  a  meagre  sort  of  garrison  in  the  Ken 
tucky  legislature,  to  maintain  him  at  home, 
he  has  set  forward  to  make  foreign  conquest. 
Taking  the  cause  of  the  bank  in  his  hand, 
and  probably  something  else  appertaining 
to  it  in  his  pocket,  he  has  marched -upon 
Boston." 

The  New  York  "Courier"  called  the 
"Globe"  a  "sheet  of  most  infamous  char- 


222    Five  American  Politicians 

acter,"  the  "common  slanderer  of  all  that 
is  honorable  in  this  country."  It  was  the 
old  cry  of  bargain  and  corruption  in  a  new 
form,  and  the  old,  old  answer  that  it  was  a 
slander.  A  greater  foe  than  slander  lurked 
in  the  rear  of  that  march  of  triumph.  The 
spirit  of  slavery  entered  the  serpent  of  slan 
der,  and  crawled  unnoticed  along  the 
dusty  highway  in  the  wake  of  the  Pacifi 
cator. 

The  war  between  the  National  Republi 
cans  and  the  Democrats  now  took  the  shape 
of  a  feud.  The  senate,  then  in  its  golden 
age  of  oratory,  attracted  excited  crowds  to 
the  corridors.  These  masters  of  debate 
spoke  to  the  whole  country.  Everywhere 
the  lines  of  party  were  being  more  closely 
drawn  around  the  leaders  and  issues  of  the 
presidential  campaign  that  had  just  closed. 
The  opposition  to  Jackson  now  completed 
jts  coalition.  It  was  a  coalition  of  incon 
gruous  fragments,  attracted  by  the  negative 
force  of  Jackson,  into  a  united  opposition. 
Protectionists  from  New  England  voted 
with  nullifiers  from  the  south;  anti-Mason 
radicals  worked  with  conservatives;  former 
federalists  under  John  Quincy  Adams,  for 
mer  Jeffersonians  under  Clay,  all  were 
brought  together  under  the  banner  of  the 
opposition.  They  found  their  motive  in  the 
constantly  encroaching  powers  of  the  execu 
tive  upon  the  prerogatives  of  congress.  In  a 
speech  of  great  power,  Clay  characterized 


Henry  Clay 223 

this  all-pervading  energy  of  the  military 
President : 

"The  senate  has  no  army,  no  navy,  no 
patronage,  no  lucrative  offices,  no  glittering 
honors  to  bestow.  Around  us  there  is  no 
swarm  of  greedy  expectants,  rendering  us 
homage,  anticipating  our  wishes,  and  ready 
to  execute  our  commands.  How  is  it  with 
the  President?  Is  he  powerless?  He  is  felt 
from  one  extremity  to  the  other  of  this  Re 
public,  by  means  of  principles  which  he  has 
introduced  and  innovations  which  he  has 
made  in  our  institutions.  Alas!  but  too 
much  countenanced  by  congress  and  a  con 
fiding  people,  he  exercises  uncontrolled  the 
power  of  the  state.  In  one  hand  he  holds 
the  purse,  and  in  the  other  brandishes  the 
sword  of  the  country!  Myriads  of  depend 
ents  and  partisans  scattered  over  the  land 
are  ever  ready  to  sing  hosannahs  to  him,  to 
laud  to  the  skies  whatever  he  does.  He  has 
swept  over  the  government  like  a  tropical 
tornado." 

The  coalition  now  received  a  name.  They 
called  themselves  Whigs,  and  their  adver 
saries  they  called  Tories.  Clay  was  quick  to 
seize  the  opportunity  of  a  favorable  election 
in  New  York  to  expound  the  sources  of  these 
names,  and  their  significance: 

"  It  was  a  brilliant  and  signal  triumph  for 
the  Whigs.  And  they  have  assured  for 
themselves  and  bestowed  on  their  opponents 
a  denomination  which,  according  to  all  the 


224    Five  American  Politicians 

analogy  of  history,  is  strictly  correct.  It 
deserves  to  be  extended  throughout  the 
whole  country.  What  was  the  origin  among 
our  British  ancestors  of  these  appellations? 
The  Tories  were  the  supporters  of  executive 
power,  of  royal  prerogatives,  of  the  maxim 
that  the  king  could  do  no  wrong,  of  the  de 
testable  doctrine  of  passive  obedience  and 
non-resistance.  The  Whigs  were  the  cham 
pions  of  liberty,  the  friends  of  the  people, 
and  the  defendants  of  their  representatives 
in  the  House  of  Commons.  During  the  Rev 
olutionary  War  the  Tories  took  sides  with 
the  king  against  liberty,  the  Whigs  against 
royal  executive  power  and  for  freedom  and 
independence.  And  what  is  the  present 
but  the  same  contest  in  another  form?  The 
partisans  of  the  present  executive  sustain 
his  favor  in  the  most  boundless  extent.  The 
Whigs  are  opposing  executive  encroachment 
and  a  most  alarming  extension  of  executive 
power  and  prerogative.  They  are  contend 
ing  for  the  rights  of  the  people,  for  free  in 
stitutions,  for  the  supremacy  of  the  consti 
tution  and  the  laws." 

But  were  the  Whigs  contending  for  free  in 
stitutions?  Their  coalition  could  not  be 
lasting,  because  they  were  clinging  to  a  tem 
porary  condition;  they  ignored  the  Great 
Issue,  the  institution  of  slavery,  the  great 
un-free  institution.  This  was  the  rock  upon 
which  they  must  break;  ostensibly,  first, 
because  "the  supremacy  of  the  constitu- 


Henry  Clay 225 

tion  "  involved  an  interpretation  of  the  lim 
its  of  state  prerogatives,  but  ultimately  be 
cause  slavery  and  liberty  were  the  real  ques 
tions  of  dispute. 

This  was  apparent  even  while  Clay's 
words  about  "free  institutions"  were  pass 
ing  from  his  lips.  The  first  element  of  the 
coalition  to  detach  itself  must  be  the  nulli- 
fiers.  They  were  not  contending  for  "free 
institutions/'  they  could  not  stand  "for  the 
supremacy  of  the  constitution/'  as  inter 
preted  by  Webster  and  Clay.  In  a  few 
short  months  Calhoun  led  his  followers  back 
into  the  exclusive  camp  of  state  rights,  ulti 
mately  to  be  absorbed  by  the  Jackson 
party,  body  and  soul. 

The  coalition  retained  the  name  of  Whigs, 
but  the  Jacksonians  did  not  remain  Tories. 
They  were  termed  Democrats,  and  the  name 
has  clung  to  them. 

The  Great  Issue  was  veiled  under  the 
more  immediate  subjects  of  controversy. 
The  greatest  and  bitterest  of  these  was  over 
the  bank.  With  stubborn  defiance,  the 
Whigs  fought  inch  by  inch  the  encroach 
ments  of  the  Democrats.  The  resistless 
power  of  the  iron  President  overcame  them. 
The  deposits  were  removed,  the  bank  was 
not  re-chartered.  The  Whigs  were  more 
hopeful  in  their  attacks  upon  Jackson  for 
his  shameless  policy  of  degrading  office  into 
political  spoils.  The  tenure  of  office  bill 
passed  the  senate  by  the  vote  of  31  to  16. 


15 


226    Five  American  Politicians 

Clay  had  won  an  ostensible  victory, 
when,  on  March  28,  1834,  the  senate 
passed  his  resolution  censuring  the  Presi 
dent  for  assuming  power,  "not  conferred 
by  the  constitution  and  laws,  but  in  dero 
gation  of  both."  As  Jackson  neared  the 
close  of  his  "  reign/'  his  friends  enlisted 
all  of  their  energies  to  expunge  this 
censure.  The  passionate  gall  of  personal 
hate  was  infused  into  the  debate  on 
the  expunging  resolution.  Webster  and 
Clay,  the  Hercules  and  Mars  of  debate, 
threw  themselves  with  unwonted  fervor 
into  the  arena.  Clay  cried,  in  his  most 
scorching  tones :  "  What  object  of  his  ambi 
tion  is  unsatisfied?  When  disabled  from  age 
any  longer  to  hold  the  scepter  of  power;  he 
designates  his  successor  and  transmits  it  to 
his  favorite.  What  more  does  he  want? 
Must  we  blot,  deface  and  mutilate  the  rec 
ords  of  the  country  to  punish  the  presump- 
tuousness  of  expressing  an  opinion  contrary 
to  his  own?  What  patriotic  purpose  is  to 
be  accomplished  by  this  expunging  resolu 
tion?  Can  you  make  that  not  to  be  which 
has  been?  Is  it  to  appease  the  wrath  and 
to  heal  the  wounded  pride  of  the  chief  mag 
istrate?  If  he  really  be  the  hero  that  his 
friends  represent  him,  he  must  despise  all 
mean  condescensions,  all  grovelling  syco 
phancy,  all  self-degradation,  all  self-abase 
ment.  He  would  reject  with  scorn  and 
contempt,  as  unworthy  of  his  fame,  your 


Henry  Clay 227 

black  scratches  and  your  baby  lines  in  the 
fair  records  of  his  country." 

The  lines  were  drawn,  in  spite  of  this  skil 
ful  attempt  to  make  them  recoil  on  Jack 
son's  greatness.  And  the  hero  did  not  treat 
them  with  contempt  and  scorn.  He  was 
gleeful,  and  "gave  a  grand  dinner  to  the  ex- 
pungers  and  their  wives."  He  knew  that 
commingled  with  the  red  ink  of  these  lines 
was  the  blood  of  his  bitterest  enemy. 

Andrew  Jackson  left  the  White  House  a 
greater  hero  than  he  entered  it.  He  had 
won  every  contest;  he  had  endeared  himself 
to  the  people  in  spite  of  his  autocracy, 
his  spoils  system  and  his  personal  vindic- 
tiveness. 

But  the  universal  prosperity  he  left  be 
hind  him  was  only  a  tinsel  show  built  upon 
the  flimsy  foundation  of  paper  money.  No 
sooner  had  he  handed  over  to  his  chosen  suc 
cessor  the  sceptre  of  his  power  than  did  the 
halo  of  his  greatness  ignite  this  tinder  of 
worthless  securities,  and,  in  the  general  con 
flagration  of  1837,  perish  profit  and  capital. 
But  the  fame  of  this  singular  tyrant-hero 
was  fireproof. 

Nor  was  his  reckless  sowing  of  the  wind 
in  assuming  unwarranted  responsibility  and 
in  flinging  gibes  at  the  supreme  court  and 
congress,  without  its  whirlwind  harvest. 
Niles,  the  quaint  and  faithful  chronicler, 
wrote  in  August,  1835:  "Many  people  of 
the  United  States  are  out  of  joint.  A  spirit 


228    Five  American  Politicians 

of  riot  and  a  disposition  to  take  the  law  in 
their  own  hands  prevails  in  every  quarter." 
To  the  impulsive  and  unthinking  masses  this 
autocrat  transmitted  his  own  spirit  of  law 
lessness.  While  the  strong-maned  lion  still 
held  sway  in  the  forest,  the  other  animals 
obeyed,  but  when  he  was  succeeded  by  the 
sly  fox  of  Kinderhook,  anarchy  joined  panic 
and  the  whole  land  was  in  dire  distress. 

The  incoherent  nature  of  the  Whig  party 
was  manifest  in  the  presidential  campaign 
of  1836.  They  held  no  national  convention, 
they  presented  no  united  front.  In  some 
states  William  Henry  Harrison  was  support 
ed,  while  the  southern  wing  put  forward 
Hugh  L.  White.  Clay  was  not  prominent 
in  the  campaign.  His  defeat  four  years  be 
fore  had  dampened  the  ardor  of  the  practical 
politicians  and  Clay  was  very  sensitive  about 
it.  He  resented  any  insinuations  that  an 
other  Whig  could  make  a  better  candidate. 
His  presidential  disease  was  now  chronic. 
The  microbe  had  eaten  into  his  soul.  It 
made  him  dejected.  He  wrote  to  his  friends 
that  he  thought  of  retiring.  Domestic  af 
fliction  and  financial  trouble  hastened  him 
to  this  conclusion.  But  he  did  not  retire. 
The  lure  of  the  great  prize  was  too  potent. 
The  crisis  that  had  borne  so  heavily  on  the 
Democrats,  rejuvenated  the  Whigs,  and 
Henry  Clay  became  a  candidate  for  the 
nomination  in  1840,  long  before  VanBuren's 
first  year  had  drawn  to  a  close.  The  great 


Henry  Clay  229 

personal  tilt  with  Calhoun,  who  had  entirely 
broken  away  from  the  coalition,  served  to 
keep  the  brilliant  orator  before  the  public 
eye. 

The  Whig  coalition  in  the  meantime  was 
augmented  by  recruits  from  erstwhile  Jack- 
sonians,  many  of  whom  were  against  inter 
nal  improvements,  against  a  high  tariff, 
against  a  bank,  but  who  rebelled  against 
Van  Buren's  sub-treasury  measure.  Now, 
Clay,  the  candidate,  set  himself  to  the  task 
of  convincing  these  newest  additions  to  his 
loosely  woven  political  fabric,  that  he  was 
really  not  an  extremist  in  tariff.  The  com 
promise  of  1833  suited  him  very  well.  He 
believed  the  government  should  not  charter 
another  bank  until  the  people  asked  for  it; 
that  congress  really  was  not  called  upon  to 
aid  the  further  building  of  internal  improve 
ments,  because  the  states  were  enabled  to 
do  so  by  the  distribution  act.  To  the  slav 
ery  men  in  his  party,  Clay  threw  a  sop 
dipped  in  the  rancor  of  an  anti-abolition 
speech  which  he  had  made  before  the  Ameri 
can  Colonization  Society  in  Washington  in 
1835,  and  which  he  virtually  repeated  in 
Congress  two  years  later.  The  great  pacifi-] 
cator  compromised  with  his  convictions  to 
gain  the  presidency.  Of  all  compromises, 
this  is  the  least  enduring  and  the  most  fatal. 

Clay  alienated  the  anti-Masons,  who  had 
developed  into  a  considerable  party  in  New 
York;  he  displeased  Webster's  friends,  who 


230    Five  American  Politicians 

thought  their  god  should  have  a  chance ;  and 
he  affronted  the  anti-slavery  Whigs.  When 
the  national  convention  of  the  Whigs  met 
in  Harrisburg,  December  4,  1839,  these 
elements  of  hostility  had  united  with  the 
practical  politicians,  who,  under  the  leader 
ship  of  Thurlow  Weed,  of  New  York,  real 
ized  that  Clay  was  a  stale  candidate.  So 
they  set  about  to  accomplish  his  downfall. 
And  this  they  accomplished  through  the 
dark  arts  of  politics.  Realizing  that  a  rous 
ing  nominating  speech  would  stampede  the 
convention  for  Clay,  they  provided  that 
nominations  be  made  by  committees.  Each 
delegation  appointed  a  committee  of  three, 
and  these  ascertaining  "the  views  and  opin 
ions"  of  their  respective  delegations,  re 
ported  to  a  large  committee  composed  of  all 
these  sub-committees.  In  the  secret  cham 
ber  of  the  select  committee,  the  manipula 
tors  wrought  what  not  even  a  miracle  could 
have  accomplished  in  the  open.  They  sub 
stituted  an  unknown,  untalented  man, 
whose  only  qualifications  were  his  obscurity 
and  a  war  record,  for  the  brilliant  statesman, 
orator,  leader,  who  for  over  thirty  years 
had  been  the  idol  of  the  people.  And  when 
it  became  known  that  William  Henry  Harri 
son  had  received  the  nomination,  the  friends 
of  the  "Old  Prince "  wept  with  disappoint 
ment  and  indignation. 

Clay  himself  received  the  news  of  his  over 
throw  in  a  very  undignified  and  unbecoming 


Henry  Clay 231 

manner.  He  had  in  these  later  years  grown 
imperious  and  impatient  of  opposition  in 
his  own  party.  He  looked  upon  himself  as 
the  creator  of  the  Whig  party,  and  as 
its  creator  he  deemed  himself  the  sole  ruler. 
So  when  he  learned  of  the  outcome  of  the 
intrigue  against  him,  his  rage  was  terrible, 
like  the  anger  of  a  god.  Even  the  storm  of 
Clay's  wrath  was  sublime. 

His  own  judgment  of  the  event  is  true. 
He  said:  "I  am  the  most  unfortunate  man 
in  the  history  of  parties ;  always  run  by  my 
friends  when  sure  to  be  defeated,  and  now 
betrayed  for  a  nomination  when  I  or  anyone, 
would  be  sure  of  an  election/'  Such  are  the 
vicissitudes  of  politics.  But  who  led  to  this 
betrayal?  Was  not  Clay  his  own  Judas 
Iscariot?  Did  he  not  trifle  with  his  own  con 
victions  that  he  might  win  the  prize  of  high 
office?  Who  should  hang  for  this  treason, 
the  betrayer,  who  was  at  once  the  betrayed, 
or  those  shrewd  men  who  buttressed  their 
strength  with  Clay's  weakness? 

The  sanguine  orator  soon  recovered  from 
the  shock  of  his  downfall  and  became  the 
master  of  the  hustings  in  that  whirl  of  hys 
teria  and  excitement  called  the  "hard  cider 
campaign." 

Van  Buren  received  only  60  electoral 
votes,  Harrison  234.  His  popular  majority 
of  150,000  was  utterly  overwhelming  to  the 
scant  7,000  votes  received  by  Birney  and 
LeMoyne,  the  anti-slavery  candidates.  Not 


Five  American  Politicians 

a  line  in  the  contemporary  prints  revealed 
that  the  political  prophets  foresaw  the  great 
significance  of  these  7,000  protests. 

Clay  found  temporary  solace  in  the  hope 
that,  if  he  could  not  be  President,  he  could 
be  the  boss  of  the  President.  He  assumed 
control  of  affairs  in  his  usual  imperious  man 
ner.  What  was  his  humiliation  when  Har 
rison  calmly  told  him:  "You  forget,  Mr. 
Clay,  that  I  am  President,"  and  followed  the 
rebuke  with  a  request  that  whatever  sugges 
tions  Clay  had  to  make  he  should  reduce  to 
writing!  Clay  wrote  a  letter  to  the  Presi 
dent  assuring  him  he  would  not  trouble  him 
again  by  calling  at  the  White  House. 

Fate  made  the  sharp  protest  unnecessary. 
Harrison  died  suddenly  after  having  been 
in  office  one  short  month. 

Clay  resolved  to  have  better  luck  with 
Tyler,  who,  as  Vice-President,  succeeded 
Harrison.  "He  dare  not  resist,"  Clay  said. 
"  J  will  drive  him."  He  did  drive  Tyler,  but 
he  drove  him  out  of  the  Whig  party.  The 
two  men  could  not  travel  the  same  highway. 
When  the  bank  bill  was  vetoed  by  the  Presi 
dent,  they  came  to  the  parting  of  the  ways. 
And  Clay  took  the  Whig  party  with  him, 
while  Tyler,  deserted,  footsore,  forsaken, 
wandered  into  the  by-ways  of  the  Demo 
cratic  party,  from  which  he  had,severed  him 
self  when  he  resigned  a  seat  in  the  senate 
rather  than  vote  for  the  expunging  resolu 
tions,  in  obedience  to  the  demand  of  the 


Henry  Clay 233 

legislature  of  his  state.  All  the  original 
Harrison  cabinet,  except  Webster,  resigned. 
Webster  remained  only  to  complete  some 
urgent  business  of  the  state  department. 
First  by  tens,  then  by  hundreds,  then  by 
thousands  the  Whigs  in  the  land  disowned 
their  first  President.  "  Traitor,"  they  shout 
ed,  while  the  grandiloquent  Clay  made 
haughty  ridicule  of  "Captain  Tyler  and  his 
corporal  guard." 

Clay  had  regained  the  leadership  of  his 
party  at  the  cost  of  this  strange  alienation 
between  President  and  partisans.  Again  he 
stood  forth  the  brilliant  parliamentarian, 
the  center  of  adoration.  His  manner  became 
more  dictatorial  as  he  assumed  the  reins  of 
absolutism.  More  impatient  and  restless 
he  grew  as  he  saw  the  dismal  failure  of  the 
first  national  Whig  triumph.  But  while  he 
was  inflexible,  he  was  still  the  winning,  gen 
erous  friend.  So  resplendent  were  his  talents 
that  his  followers  forgot  the  tyrant  in  the 
idol.  He  was  again  the  Whig  party,  its  soul 
and  its  body,  its  eyes  and  its  lips. 

On  the  31st  of  March,  1842,  he  took  formal 
leave  of  the  senate.  He  wished  to  retire  to 
private  life,  to  retrieve  his  fortune  and  to  re 
cuperate  his  worn-out  nerves.  Only  Henry 
Clay  could  take  such  farewell.  He  uncon 
sciously  invested  all  his  public  acts  with  a 
dramatic  splendor  that  is  hard  to  realize  in 
our  straightforward  days  of  prosaic  mercan 
tilism.  So  this  valedictory  occasion  became 


234    Five  American  Politicians 

a  drama.  The  floor  of  the  senate  was  the 
stage,  great  senators,  the  flower  of  the  land, 
were  the  setting,  throngs  of  ardent  spectators 
that  overflowed  the  chamber,  the  galleries, 
and  the  long  corridors,  were  the  auditors, 
the  grandeur  of  the  nation  was  the  subject, 
his  motives  during  almost  forty  years  of 
public  service,  and  his  personal  relations  to  his 
colleagues,  the  theme.  There  was  only  one 
actor  in  this  drama.  One  other  would  have 
been  superfluous.  His  marvelous  voice,  and 
sonorous  sentences,  attuned  to  every  emotion, 
were  never  more  effective  than  in  this  tender 
farewell  from  the  scenes  of  his  great  achieve 
ments,  and  alas,  his  great  disappointments. 
The  supremest  disappointment  awaited 
him  at  the  outer  gate. 

Let  us  now  recur  to  the  slavery  issue  and 
trace  the  development  of  the  public  con 
science  upon  that  question.  The  great  Issue 
had  been  gradually  assuming  that  shape 
which  revealed  its  inmost  nature.  It  was 
not  at  soul  an  economic  issue,  nor  a  political 
issue,  but  a  moral  issue.  Cloak  its  black 
self  as  they  would,  under  the  garments  of 
expediency,  of  economic  production,  of  race 
superiority,  of  ethnic  danger,  of  mutual  ben 
efits  to  the  commingling  races,  there  re 
mained  ever  beneath  the  scant  draping?  the 
hideous  monster,  sin. 

The  whole  nation  shuddered  at  the  first 
wild  cry  of  the  despised  abolitionist,  "Sla- 


Henry  Clay 235 

very  is  a  sin."  It  was  the  shudder  of  con 
viction;  but  an  unwilling  nation  answered 
it  with  a  derision  that  half  concealed  its 
fear:  "These  men  are  bigots."  And  when 
the  Garrisons  and  Lundies  and  Lovejoys 
proclaimed  that  righteousness  and  sin  can 
not  dwell  together  in  prosperity,  that  there 
fore  either  slavery  or  the  constitution  must 
yield,  they  laid  themselves  open  to  the  charge 
of  high  treason.  They  were  doubly  dan 
gerous,  said  the  politicians,  as  bigots,  who 
would  not  reconcile  conscience  with  expedi 
ency;  as  traitors,  who  would  prefer  the  de- 
truction  of  the  constitution  to  the  preserva 
tion  of  the  Union. 

While  these  discussions  were  confined  to 
New  England  school  houses  and  churches, 
to  country  newspapers  and  religious  maga 
zines,  the  politician  did  not  heed  them. 
But  the  conscience  of  these  abolitionists  in 
vaded  the  halls  of  congress,  and  then  was 
precipitated  the  bitter  debate  that  lasted 
from  January  7,  1836,  until  the  great  war 
became  the  arbiter  of  right. 

The  issue  was  raised  in  congress  by  peti 
tions  praying  for  the  abolition  of  slavery  in 
the  district  of  Columbia.  The  slave  holders 
desired  to  ignore  these  petitions.  Terrific 
onslaughts  were  made  by  both  sides.  The 
foundations  of  the  nation  rocked  like  a  cork 
on  an  angry  sea.  John  Quincy  Adams,  in 
the  house,  protected  by  the  drawn  revolvers 
of  his  friends,  held  the  wolves  at  bay.  The 


236    Five  American  Politicians 

petitions  were  received  but  their  prayer 
denied.  Thus  slavery  raised  the  issue  of 
free  speech  versus  gag  rule. 

On  July  29, 1835,  a  mob  assaulted  a  United 
States  post-office  in  South  Carolina  for  the 
purpose  of  searching  the  mails  and  destroy 
ing  certain  pamphlets  that  the  abolition 
society  had  sent  to  the  south.  A  bill  was 
brought  to  congress  by  Calhoun  declaring 
it  unlawful  for  any  postmaster  wilfully  to 
deliver  any  printed  mail  which  discussed 
slavery,  in  any  state  or  territory  wherein 
such  matter  was  prohibited  by  law.  The 
state  legislatures  were  thus  to  be  glorified 
over  the  national  legislature.  The  slave 
states  were  to  dictate  to  the  Union  what 
•were  the  powers  of  the  federal  government. 
The  bill  was  defeated.  Thus  slavery  raised 
the  issue  of  free  mail  versus  plundered  mail. 

Yet  in  a  third  manner  did  the  Great  Issues 
stalk  onto  the  floors  of  congress.  More  de 
pressing  to  the  south  than  any  other  fact 
was  the  great  development  of  the  northern 
states.  They  saw  themselves  outgrown  in 
every  direction.  To  maintain  the  balance 
of  power  they  must  gain  states.  Texas  was 
at  the  door.  She  could  easily  be  induced  to 
knock.  Her  admission  would  add  an  em 
pire  to  the  cotton  growing  belt.  Into  the 
intrigues  which  ultimately  resulted  in  annex 
ation  and  a  Mexican  War,  it  is  not  the  func 
tion  of  this  essay  to  enter.  The  north  saw 
the  motive  that  prompted  this  eagerness  for 


Henry  Clay 237 

territory.  The  heart  of  the  Texan  question 
was  slavery  extension.  Thus  did  slavery  raise 
the  issue  of  nationalism  versus  sectionalism. 

How  did  Henry  Clay  meet  these  issues? 

Clay  was  at  heart  an  ardent  lover  of  free 
dom,  a  devoted  believer  in  Democratic  insti 
tutions,  and  a  sanguine  prophet  of  his 
country's  great  future.  When  a  youth  in 
the  Kentucky  constitutional  convention,  he 
had  introduced  a  clause  providing  for  eman 
cipation  in  his  state.  He  had  learned  the 
lessons  of  freedom  from  his  preceptor,  Chan 
cellor  Wythe.  Although  a  slave  holder,  he 
believed  in  colonization.  To  him  it  seemed 
as  impossible  for  the  two  races  to  dwell  to 
gether  in  freedom  and  equality,  as  it  was 
unjust  that  they  should  live  together  one 
free  and  the  other  slave.  In  1827,  in  a 
speech  before  the  colonization  society,  he 
said:  "If  I  could  be  instrumental  in  eradi 
cating  this  deepest  stain  upon  the  character 
of  our  country  and  removing  all  cause  of 
reproach  on  account  of  it  by  foreign  na 
tions;  if  I  could  only  be  instrumental  in 
ridding  of  this  foul  blot  that  revered  state 
which  gave  me  birth,  or  that  not  less 
beloved  state  which  kindly  adopted  me 
as  her  son,  I  would  not  exchange  the 
proud  satisfaction  which  I  should  enjoy 
for  the  honor  of  all  the  triumph  ever 
received  by  the  most  successful  conqueror. 
*  *  *  Not  until  universal  darkness 
and  despair  prevail,  can  you  perpetuate 


238    Five  American  Politicians 

slavery  and  repress  all  sympathies  and  all 
human  and  benevolent  efforts  among  freed 
men  in  behalf  of  the  unhappy  portion  of  our 
race  doomed  to  bondage." 

Thus  spoke  Henry  Clay  the  man;  had 
Henry  QJay  the  candidate  been  true  to 
these  convictions  through  the  succeeding 
twenty  years,  he  would  have  been  Presi 
dent. 

When  the  first  abolition  petition  came  into 
]  congress  Clay  fervently  pleaded  that  they  be 
received.  In  1837  he  moved  that  they  be 
not  only  received,  but  referred  to  the  com 
mittee  on  the  District  of  Columbia.  Cal- 
houn,  subtle  logician  and  metaphysician  of 
secession,  at  once  objected  that  this  would 
raise  debate,  and  that  the  slavery  question 
was  not  one  for  argument.  Clay  shouted 
back :  "  Not  a  case  for  argument !  What  is 
it  that  lies  at  the  bottom  of  all  our  free  in 
stitutions?  Argument,  reasoning,  consider- 
»  ation,  deliberation.  What  question  is  there 
in  human  affairs  so  weak  or  so  strong  that 
it  cannot  be  approached  by  argument  or 
reason?"  Calhoun's  cohorts  said  that  these 
were  not  the  words  of  a  patriot,  but  of  an 
abolitionist.  Calhoun's  bill  to  make  the 
government  a  robber  of  its  own  mails,  Clay 
fought  with  great  vehemence.  "From  first 
to  last,"  he  declared,  "I  am  opposed  to  such 
remedy."  The  states,  he  said,  must  seek 
their  own  remedy,  after  the  pamphlets  had 
passed  beyond  the  local  post  office. 


Henry  Clay 239 

Clay  was  chairman  of  the  Foreign  Rela 
tions  Committee  when  the  Texan  question 
hove  in  sight.  He  was  an  expansionist  by 
temperament.  In  1820,  when  in  the  house 
of  representatives,  he  had  severely  criti 
cized  Monroe  for  relinquishing  Texas  in  the 
Florida  Treaty.  He  maintained  that  Texas 
was  a  part  of  the  Louisiana  purchase.  When 
secretary  of  state  under  Adams,  he  had  be 
gun  negotiations  for  the  purchase  of  Texas. 
But  in  1837,  as  chairman  of  the  committee 
on  foreign  relations,  his  ardor  was  grown 
cold.  Did  the  pro-slavery  movement  act 
as  ice  upon  his  warm  zeal  for  his  country's 
growth? 

His  committe  report  was  calm  and  devoid 
of  all  appearance  of  haste  or  fervor.  It  re 
solved,  "that  the  independence  of  Texas 
ought  to  be  acknowledged  by  the  United 
States  whenever  satisfactory  information 
shall  be  received  that  it  has  in  successful 
operation  a  civil  government,  capable  of 
performing  the  duties  and  fulfilling  the  obli 
gations  of  an  independent  power." 

The  speech  that  accompanied  the  intro 
duction  of  this  report  warned  against  hasty 
action  and  hoped  thai  there  would  be  no 
war  with  Mexico. 

While  Clay  the  man  was  setting  himself 
right  with  his  conscience;  Clay  the  candidate 
was  beginning  to  think  that  he  must  set 
himself  right  with  the  south.  Gradually  he 
began  to  absorb  the  malarial  opinion  that 


240    Five  American  Politicians 

the  abolitionists  were  dangerous.  In  Feb 
ruary,  1839,  a  petition  was  presented  by  the 
citizens  of  Washington,  praying  for  the  con 
tinuance  of  slavery  in  the  district.  It  was 
whispered  behind  doors  that  Clay  was 
the  originator  of  this  petition.  He  arose  to 
its  defense.  He  spoke  very  slowly,  almost 
hesitatingly,  without  fire,  without  force, 
without  figure.  The  calculating  demeanor 
of  the  candidate  had  dried  the  well  springs 
of  his  fluency.  The  consciousness  that  he 
was  surrendering  convictions  to  expediency 
drove  the  blood  from  his  countenance.  With 
blanched  cheeks,  parched  lips,  and  scrupu 
lously  weighed  words,  Henry  Clay  affirmed 
that  he  was  sorry  the  slavery  question  had 
ever  been  raised  in  debate;  that  abolitionists 
were  a  dangerous  set  of  men;  that  since 
slavery  exists  it  was  better  to  let  it  alone 
than  to  agitate  the  public  mind,  "better  for 
both  parties  that  the  existing  state  should 
be  preserved";  that  slaves  were  property; 
that  the  abolition  agitation  delayed  all  pros 
pects  of  emancipation,  and  that  emancipa 
tion  would  usher  in  "  the  danger  of  an  ulti 
mate  ascendency  of  the  black  race,  or  of  a 
civil  contest  which  might  terminate  in  the 
extinction  of  one  race  or  the  other."  To 
make  sure  his  surrender  was  not  complete, 
he  added:  "I  am  no  friend  of  slavery;  the 
Searcher  of  all  Hearts  knows  that  every  pul 
sation  of  mine  beats  high  and  strong  in 
the  cause  of  civil  liberty.  Whenever  it  is 


Henry  Clay 241 

safe  and  practical,  I  desire  to  see  every  por 
tion  of  the  human  family  in  the  enjoyment 
of  it.  But  I  prefer  the  liberty  of  my  own 
country  to  that  of  any  other  people,  and  the 
liberty  of  my  own  race  to  that  of  any  other 
race.  The  liberty  of  the  descendants  of 
Africa  in  the  United  States  is  incompatible 
with  the  liberty  and  safety  of  these  European 
descendants.  Their  slavery  forms  an  excep 
tion,  an  exception  resulting  from  a  stern  and 
inexorable  necessity,  to  the  general  liberty 
of  the  United  States.  We  did  not  originate, 
nor  are  we  responsible  for  this  necessity. 
Their  liberty,  if  it  were  possible,  could  only 
be  established  by  violating  the  incontestable 
powers  of  the  states  and  subverting  the 
union;  and  beneath  the  ruins  of  the  union 
would  be  buried  sooner  or  later  the  liberty 
of  both  races." 

Thus  did  the  candidate  bid  for  the  votes 
of  the  south.  It  was  answered  from  an  un 
expected  quarter.  Gerrit  Smith,  a  powerful 
anti-slavery  leader,  wrote  him  publicly  a 
letter,  advising  him  to  exert  his  powers  "to 
repeal  the  matchlessly  wicked  laws  enacted 
to  crush  the  Savior's  poor."  "Allow  us  to 
assure  you,"  he  continued,  "that  it  will  be 
impossible  for  you  to  redeem  '  Henry  Clay 
the  statesman '  and  '  Henry  Clay  the  orator ' 
and  even  '  Henry  Clay  the  President  of  the 
United  States '  from  the  contempt  of  a  slave 
loathing  posterity,  otherwise  than  by  coup 
ling  witfrthese  designations  the  inexpressibly 


242    Five  American  Politicians 

more  honorable  distinction  of  'Henry  Clay 
the  Emancipator  V  It  was  reserved  for  an 
other  to  be  the  emancipator  in  the  stress  of 
events  whose  gathering  shadows  cast  a  gloom 
over  the  last  days  of  Henry  Clay  the  Pacifi 
cator. 

We  have  seen  how  this  morsel  thrown  to 
the  slave-holding  Whigs  was  spurned  almost 
contemptuously  in  the  Harrisburg  conven 
tion  in  1839.  It  was  probably  the  conscious 
ness  of  the  futility  of  this  surrender  that 
made  Clay  so  angry  when  he  received  the 
news  of  his  undoing.  But  he  did  not  learn 
the  lesson  of  this  humiliating  event.  He 
had  hardly  delivered  his  dramatic  valedic 
tory  to  the  senate  in  1842  than  he  began  to 
grow  impatient  to  prove  to  the  south  that 
he  was  not  an  abolitionist. 

The  two  years,  1842-44,  were  Clay 
years.  From  all  over  the  land  came  urgent 
invitations  to  speak,  letters  poured  in  upon 
him  in  a  deluge;  all  of  them  he  answered 
with  great  precaution.  In  April,  1842,  the 
Georgia  Whigs  nominated  him  for  their  can 
didate  in  the  next  presidential  campaign. 
Maine,  New  York,  Maryland,  Ohio,  Indiana, 
followed  in  the  same  year.  He  traveled 
northward,  and  at  Dayton,  Ohio,  was  greet 
ed  by  the  greatest  throng  ever  assembled  to 
listen  to  a  stump  speech.  100,000  people 
were  encamped  upon  the  fields.  They  came 
from  the  adjacent  townships,  in  wagons,  on 
horseback,  on  foot.  Acres  of  people  were 


Henry  Clay 243 

his  auditory,  the  blue  sky  and  the  open  field 
his  auditorium.  For  never  was  building 
erected  large  enough  to  hold  the  gathered 
thousands  who  met  to  proclaim  Henry  Clay 
their  chosen  idol. 

He  journeyed  southward  to  New  Orleans. 
He  had  his  progress  through  the  Carolinas 
and  Georgia.  Everywhere  was  wild  enthusi 
asm.  There  was  no  abatement  for  two  years 
of  this  spontaneous  flow  of  the  spirit  of  Clay 
worship.  Ashland  was  the  Mecca  of  all  poli 
ticians.  Thither  the  worshipping  multitude 
brought  its  offerings.  "American  made 
goods  for  American  consumption,"  was  the 
motto  written  upon  every  gift.  Barrels  of 
American  salt,  braces  of  American  turkeys, 
bolts  of  American  woolens  and  cottons, 
bottles  of  American  wine,  jugs  of  American 
whisky,  flasks  of  American  cologne,  fqjind 
their  way  to  the  capacious  storerooms  of 
Ashland.  The  stately  halls  gave  gracious 
welcome  to  distinguished  men  from  all  over 
the  land  and  from  Europe. 

The  elections  of  1843  were  Whigish.  The 
augurs  were  auspicious.  The  sanguine  hero 
was  in  gleeful  mood.  Not  a  cloudlet  was 
seen  upon  his  political  horizon.  A  true 
prophet  could  have  discerned  a  blackness  the 
size  of  a  man's  hand. 

In  May,  1844,  the  Whig  national  conven 
tion  met  at  Baltimore  and  ratified  what  the 
clamorous  multitude  had  already  accom 
plished.  With  hurrah  and  with  song  Henry 


244    Five  American  Politicians 

\  Clay  was  nominated  and  the  disappointed 
Webster  stolidly  reentered  the  ranks  of  the 
Whigs.  He  had  found  John  Tyler's  com 
pany  too  uncongenial.  The  Democratic  con- 

>  vention  met  a  few  days  later.  It  was  unani 
mously  admitted  that  Martin  Van  Buren 
should  be  the  candidate.  But  the  politi 
cians  willed  otherwise.  The  pro-slavery  men 
ruled  the  convention.  "  Texas  or  Disunion  " 
was  their  insane  cry.  "The  re-occupation 
of  Oregon  and  the  re-annexation  of  Texas  " 
was  their  popular  slogan.  Van  Buren  had 
straddled  the  Texas  question.  He  was 
therefore  unavailable,  and  James  K.  Polk, 
unknown  and  unsung,  was  named  to  run 
against  Henry  Clay,  whose  glories  filled  the 
whole  heavens.  The  contrast  seemed  em 
barrassing  to  the  Democrats,  ridiculous  to 
the  Whigs,  and  humiliating  to  the  great 
Clay.  The  question,  "Who  is  Polk?"  was 
the  campaign  argument  of  the  Whigs.  The 
answer  was  a  death  dealing  blow. 

In  spite  of  Clay's  most  strenuous  endea 
vors,  the  Texas  question  became  the  real 
issue  of  the  campaign.  Despised  Tyler,  the 
Whig  Vice-President,  elevated  to  the  first 
Whig  Presidency  by  the  death  of  Harrison, 
foisted  this  issue  upon  the  Whig  party. 
This  was  his  revenge  for  the  ruthless  way 
Clay  had  thrust  him  outside  the  party  door. 
For  three  years  Tyler's  scheming  brain  was 
busy  intriguing  for  the  annexation  of  Texas. 
He  hoped  thereby  to  gain  the  Democratic 


Henry  Clay 245 

nomination  in  1844.  On  April  12,  1844,  the 
treaty  of  annexation  was  signed  and  sent 
to  the  senate.  The  outcast  Tyler  forced 
the  imperious  Clay  to  take  official  notice  of 
the  issue.  This  he  did  in  a  letter,  dated 
April  17,  1844,  written  at  Raleigh,  N.  C.  In 
it  he  reviewed  his  attempts  to  purchase 
Texas  when  he  was  secretary  of  state  under 
Adams.  He  affirmed  that  Texas  was  part 
of  the  Louisiana  purchase,  and  had  been 
shamefully  relinquished  for  Florida.  He 
frankly  avowed  that  we  had  taken  too  open 
a  part  in  the  Texas  revolt,  and  that  to  ac 
quire  the  state  contrary  to  the  consent  of 
Mexico  would  mean  war  with  our  southern 
neighbor.  This  would  be  deplorable.  More 
over,  there  was  a  strong  opposition  in  the 
north  against  such  annexation.  The  "  bal 
ance  of  power"  argument  he  flung  aside 
with  derision.  The  national  honor  should  not ' 
be  stained  by  sending  us  into  a  war  for  the 
mere  purpose  of  gaining  additional  territory. 
This  neutral  letter  naturally  failed  to 
please  the  southern  Whigs,  nor  was  it  ratified 
by  the  violent  anti-slavery  Whigs  of  the 
north,  for  it  refrained  from  mentioning  the 
one  reason  why  the  annexation  of  Texas 
would  be  obnoxious  to  them,  namely  because 
it  would  expand  the  slave  territory.  The 
body  of  the  party  acquiesced  to  its  views. 
The  letter  was  scracely  dry  upon  its  page 
ere  it  was  followed  by  one  from  Van  Buren 
of  similar  import.  Van  Buren  had  met 


246    Five  American  Politicians 

Clay  at  Ashland  in  1842  and  the  two  friendly 
antagonists  had  agreed  to  oppose  the  annex 
ation  of  Texas  if  it  became  an  issue.  The 
agreement  was  kept,  and  neither  of  the  par 
ties  thereto  was  elected. 

Clay  might  have  been  elected  had  he  been 
content  to  rest  on  his  Raleigh  letter.  Words 
came  too  easily  to  the  orator.  His  great 
anxiety  to  be  elected  made  him  restless  and 
shook  from  him  another  letter,  sent  to 
Stephen  F.  Miller,  of  Tuscaloosa,  Ala.,  July  1, 
1844.  He  denounced  emphatically  the 
charge  that  he  was  courting  the  abolition 
ists.  "No  man  in  the  United  States  has 
been  so  much  abused  by  them  as  I  have 
been."  "Personally  I  could  have  no  ob 
jection  to  the  annexation  of  Texas;  but  I 
certainly  should  be  unwilling  to  see  the  exist- 
ing  union  dissolved  or  seriously  jeoparded, 
for  the  sake  of  acquiring  Texas.  If  any  one 
desires  to  know  the  leading  and  paramount 
object  of  my  public  life,  the  preservation  of 
the  Union  will  furnish  him  the  key." 

This  was  a  patriotic  benediction  to  a  di 
rect  slap  at  the  abolitionists.  Slavery  was  at 
last  recognized  by  Clay  as  the  issue.  But 
the  warm  blood  of  his  southern  friends  was 
not  satisfied.  In  response  to  urgent  requests 
he  wrote  a  second  letter  to  the  same  Miller  on 
July  27.  "I  have,"  he  said,  "no  hesitation 
in  saying  that,  far  from  having  any  personal 
objection  to  the  annexation  of  Texas,  I 
should  be  glad  to  see  it,  without  dishonor, 


Henry  Clay 247 

without  war,  with  the  common  consent  of  the 
Union,  and  upon  just  and  fair  terms.    I  do  ! 
not  think  that  the  subject  of  slavery  ought  [ 
to  affect  the  question  one  way  or  the  other." 

Fate  might  have  whispered  into  Webster's 
ear,  when  he  rose  to  deliver  his  7th  of 
March  speech  in  1850:  "  Remember  the 
Ides  of  March!"  What  cruel  spirit  whis 
pered  fatuation  into  Clay's  ear  when  he 
penned  these  Alabama  letters? 

The  blackness,  the  size  of  a  man's  hand, 
now  grew  into  a  threatening  thunder  cloud. 
It  spread  over  the  whole  horizon.  Aboli 
tionists  and  "Conscience  Whigs"  pointed 
the  finger  of  derision  at  the  truckling  trim 
mer,  to  them  no  hero,  but  a  slavemaster.  By 
the  hundreds  did  the  anti-slavery  Whigs  for 
sake  their  party .  Clay,  when  too  late,  saw  the 
disaffection  and  tried  to  check  it.  Letter  after 
letter,  protest  after  protest,  was  unheeded. 
These  northern  deserters  had  a  conscience. 

The  campaign  moved  forward,  carried  on 
the  wings  of  song  and  of  shout.  Joyously 
the  Whigs  sang: 

"For  Henry  Clay  our  candidate, 

Hurrah,  hurrah,  hurrah, 
To  place  him  in  the  chair  of  state, 

Hurrah,  hurrah,  hurrah. 
God's  noblest  work,  an  honest  man, 
A  nobler  show  us  if  you  can, 
Hurrah,  hurrah,  hurrah,  hurrah, 
Hurrah,  hurrah,  hurrah. " 


248    Five  American  Politicians 

" Shout  Yankee  Doodle,  Whigs,  huzza! 

We're  done  with  Captain  Tyler, 
He  who  has  been  his  country's  flaw, 

Shall  never  more  defile  her. 
For  Farmer  Clay,  then,  boys,  hurrah, 

And  proudly  here  proclaim  him, 
The  great,  the  good,  the  valiant  Hal 

And  shout  when'er  ye  name  him." 

"We  spread  our  banners  to  the  sky, 
Our  motto,  Clay  and  Liberty! 
At  victors  we  our  veto  fling, 
A  President  we  want,  not  King." 

Thus  they  sang  in  cheerful  glee  of  their 
"Old  Coon,"  their  "Star  of  the  West,"  their 
"Gallant  Harry." 

And  this  was  the  doleful  echo  of  their  song 
that  came  from  the  NewEngland  hills.  It  was 
the  story  of  a  slave  who  longed  for  freedom. 
In  his  anguish  for  liberty  he  said :  "Oh,  that  I 
might  be  free!"  His  master  overheard  the 
exclamation  and  whipped  the  negro  to  death. 

"The  thong  was  in  his  hand 

A  thong  of  knotted  hide. 
9       Hardened  with  blood  beside, 
And  braided  as  a  band; 

Blow  after  blow  he  gave, 

To  that  unhappy  slave. 
As  is  in  boyish  play, 

He  lashed  him  'til  the  gore 

His  quivering  limbs  ran  o'er. 
Huzza  for  Henry  Clay. 


Henry  Clay  249 


"  Each  strip  curled  up  the  flesh, 
And  it  crawled  upon  his  bones. 
Then  fainter  grew  his  groans; 
But  as  the  blood  ran  fresh, 
'Twas  lash,  and  lash,  and  lash. 
Oh,  God!  that  fearful  gash! 
Thy  hand  in  mercy  stay! 
And  with  that  knotted  hide, 
He  lashed  him  till  he  died, 
Huzza  for  Henry  Clay." 
The  orthodox  abolitionists  who  gave  circu 
lation  to  many  such  poems,  unearthed  all  of 
the  past.     They  learned  that  Clay  had  at  one 
time,  in  his  youth,  been  fond  of  cards,  there 
fore  he  was  a  gambler;  that,  in  the  heat  of  a 
personal  controversy,  he  had  at  one  time  ut 
tered  an  oath,  therefore  he  was  a  blasphemer; 
that  he  had  ordered  his  servants  to  work  on 
Sunday,  therefore  he  was  a  Sabbath  breaker; 
that  he  was  courting  the  Catholics,  and  the 
Mormons, therefore  he  was  an  unbeliever ;  that 
he  had  fought  many  duels,  therefore  he  was  a 
murderer;  that  he  owned  slaves,  therefore  he 
was  a  slave  owner. 

Before  the  campaign  ended,  Andrew  Jack 
son  broke  his  silence,  and  reaffirmed  his  con 
viction  that,  way  back  in  1824,  Clay  had 
cheated  Jackson  out  of  the  Presidency, 
through  "bargain  and  corruption."  The 
personal  hatred  of  the  old  man  did  not  parch 
with  his  age. 

These  desultory  movements  of  the  more 
fanatic  abolitionists  would  have  resulted  in 


250    Five  American  Politicians 

nothing,  had  it  not  been  for  a  little  conven 
tion  held  in  Buffalo,  August  30,  1843.  The 
Liberty  party  here  named  James  G.  Birney 
and  Thomas  Morris  as  its  candidates.  They 
were  not  abolitionists;  they  were  devoted 
to  the  constitution  and  their  country.  They 
desired  that  slavery  should  cease,  but  that 
its  abolition  should  be  brought  about  through 
constitutional  means.  In  1840  they  had 
polled  7,000  votes.  During  the  quadren- 
nium  they  had  grown.  Salmon  P.  Chase,  of 
Ohio,  a  man  of  great  talents  and  splendid 
vigor,  became  their  leader.  Birney,  their 
candidate,  was  a  cultured  gentleman,  a  Ken 
tucky  lawyer,  who  had  freed  his  slaves  for 
conscience'  sake.  The  party  was  composed 
of  men  of  judgment,  talent,  patriotism,  and 
righteousness.  A  few  abolitionists  came  to 
swell  their  votes.  But  Clay's  unfortunate 
Alabama  letters  made  a  host  of  converts  to 
the  new  party  out  of  anti-slavery  Whigs. 
Against  Clay  they  directed  their  warfare. 
Not  that  Polk  was  less  a  slave-owner,  but 
Clay  had  tampered  with  his  best  convictions. 
Upon  him  the  Liberty  party  had  hoped  to 
place  their  votes.  Now  they  heaped  upon 
his  aged  head  the  supremest  disappointment 
of  his  eventful  life. 

In  New  York,  the  Liberty  party  polled 
15,812  votes.  Polk  had  a  majority  over 
Clay  of  5,080.  Ambrose  Spencer,  of  New 
York,  told  Clay  the  plain  blunt  truth.  "The 
Abolition  vote  lost  you  the  election,  as  three- 


Henry  Clay 251 

fourths  of  them  were  firm  Whigs  converted 
into  abolitionists." 

New  York  held  the  balance  of  Clay's  fate. 
The  returns  from  the  eastern  counties  showed 
heavy  Democratic  gains.  The  hopes  of  the 
Whig  managers  hung  upon  the  slender  thread 
of  increased  Whig  majorities  in  the  western 
counties.  The  returns  came  in  very  slowly; 
the  suspense  was  agonizing.  But  each  rider 
from  the  rural  districts  brought  distracting 
news.  Hope  diminished  with  each  recurring 
day,  until  the  final  count  revealed  the  awful 
defeat  of  their  idol. 

The  whole  land  was  stunned.  Men  gath 
ered  in  groups  at  village  corners,  and  spoke 
in  whispers.  Women  and  children  joined 
their  fathers  and  husbands  in  the  universal 
wail  and  lamentation.  Men  wept,  and  fore 
told  the  ruin  of  the  republic.  Probably  no 
other  national  event  has  had  such  a  distress 
ing  effect  upon  the  popular  imagination, 
excepting  only  the  assassination  of  Lincoln. 
Everybody  felt  as  if  a  great  wrong  had  been 
done.  Business  joined  sentiment  in  the 
mourning,  and  the  Great  Hero  of  the  masses, 
thrice  defeated,  was  thrice  glorified  through 
their  sorrowful  adoration. 

From  the  ashes  of  defeat  rose  for  the  fifth 
time  the  phcenix  of  his  ambitions.  The  ten 
acity  of  the  old  man's  desire  to  be  President 
was  equalled  only  by  his  talents  to  inspire 
the  enthusiasm  of  his  devoted  following  and 
to  move  constantly  before  the  people,  the 


252    Five  American  Politicians 

conspicuous  center  of  excitement  and  admir 
ation. 

The  quiet  of  Ashland  was  invaded  by  a 
constant  stream  of  visitors,  who  came  to  do 
homage  to  the  great  Whig.  His  repose  was 
voluntarily  broken  by  a  series  of  journeys 
and  ovations,  which  kept  the  nation  always 
conscious  that  Henry  Clay  had  not  retired, 
and  that  he  was  not  defeated.  To  his  loyal 
and  faithful  friends  he  was  still  the  tower  of 
strength  and  majesty.  They  sang: 

"Not  fallen,  no!  as  well  the  tall 
And  pillowed  Alleghanies  fall ! " 

To  them  the  victim  of  minorities  was  the 
victor  of  majorities. 

In  January,  1845,  he  spoke  at  a  meeting 
of  the  American  Colonization  Society,  held 
in  Washington.  Alexander  H.  Stephens  de 
scribed  the  event  to  his  brother :  "  Last  night 
Mr.  Clay  made  a  show  on  the  colonization 
questions,  and  such  a  show  I  never  saw. 
Men  came  from  Baltimore,  Philadelphia  and 
New  York,  to  say  nothing  of  Alexandria  and 
this  city.  The  house  and  galleries  were 
jammed  and  crammed  before  five  o'clock." 

And  this  was  only  two  months  after  the 
fateful  election.  If  people  were  willing  to 
lend  him  their  ears,  they  were  not  willing  to 
loan  him  their  convictions. 

Somewhat  later  he  made  a  progress  through 
the  south.  The  ladies  of  Tennessee  brought 
him  a  costly  vase;  those  of  Virginia  erected 


Henry  Clay 253 

his  statue  in  Richmond;  the  people  of  New 
Orleans  greeted  him  as  a  king. 

In  the  autumn  of  1847  Clay  gave  notice 
that  he  would  address  his  fellow  citizens  at 
Lexington  on  the  slavery  question,  and  the 
Mexican  War.  An  uncountable  throng 
from  all  the  neighborhood  and  from  neigh 
boring  states  gathered  to  hear  his  solemn 
warning  against  extension  of  territory  by 
conquest,  merely  for  the  purpose  of  selfish 
aggrandizement.  Scott  had  entered  the 
City  of  Mexico,  and  the  stars  and  stripes 
were  floating  over  the  royal  palace.  The 
American  people  seemed  in  a  delirium  of  ex 
citement.  The  most  absurd  schemes  were 
afloat  to  incorporate  Mexico  into  the  nation. 
It  was  to  allay  this  intoxication  that  Clay 
issued,  in  his  grandest  manner,  his 
prophetic  manifesto.  He  closed  his  speech 
by  offering  a  series  of  resolutions,  declaring 
that  the  war  was  one  of  aggression,  that  the 
annexing  of  Mexico  would  result  in  despo 
tism,  that  peace  with  Mexico  should  be  gen 
erous,  embracing  only  a  severing  of  Texas 
from  the  Mexican  domain,  and  that  "  we  do 
positively  and  emphatically  disclaim  and 
disavow  any  wish  or  desire  on  our  part  to  ac 
quire  any  foreign  territory  whatever  for  the 
purpose  of  propagating  slavery,  or  of  intro 
ducing  slaves  from  the  United  States  into 
such  foreign  territory." 

Clay  had  touched  the  pulse  of  the  north, 
and  his  resolutions  were  received  and  re- 


254    Five  American  Politicians 

adopted  in  great  mass-meetings  in  every 
northern  state.  The  speech  was  one  of  the 
first  recorded  by  "  magnetic  telegraph."  A 
courier  hastened  from  Lexington  to  Cincin 
nati,  a  distance  of  84  miles,  in  five  hours. 
Within  twenty-four  hours  the  great  speech 
was  reported  in  New  York.  This  was  a 
marvel  upon  which  the  papers  of  the  day 
dwelt  in  astonishment.  It  reveals  the  im 
portance  placed  by  the  nation  upon  the  ut 
terances  of  Henry  Clay. 

A  few  months  later  C\ay  journeyed  east 
to  receive  ovations  in  Washington,  Balti 
more,  Philadelphia,  and  New  York.  This 
series  of  festivals  showed  again  the  tremen 
dous  popularity  of  this  singular  man,  whom 
the  people  loved  to  defeat,  that  they  might 
the  more  lavish  their  love  upon  him. 

Clay  was  a  candidate  again.  He  had 
never  ceased  being  a  candidate.  The  polls 
had  scarcely  closed  in  1844  before  his  friends 
asked  him  to  stand  in  1848.  He  cautiously 
replied  that  it  was  altogether  too  early  to 
plan  for  that  event.  While  nursing  his  de 
feat,  he  fed  his  desires,  and  before  1845  ar 
rived,  he  had  quite  fully  determined  to  run 
again,  if  he  could  thus  "serve  the  people 
and  the  Whig  party."  The  "next  time" 
was  Clay's  to-morrow,  always  just  beyond 
his  grasp.  The  leading  Whigs  were  tired 
of  defeat.  They  shared  the  opinion  of  John 
J.  Crittenden,  a  true  friend  of  Clay  and  an 
able  man :  "I  prefer  Clay  to  all  men  for  the 


Henry  Clay 255 

Presidency,  but  my  conviction,  my  invol 
untary  conviction  is,  that  he  cannot  be 
elected." 

Clay  had  formed  the  habit  of  running  for 
the  Presidency,  and  the  people  had  gotten 
mto  the  habit  of  defeating  him.  It  is  as 
difficult  for  the  people  to  break  habits,  as  it 
is  for  individuals. 

Wars  were  deadly  to  Clay's  aspirations. 
His  own  war  of  1812  brought  forth  Jackson, 
Indian  wars  produced  Harrison,  the  war 
with  Mexico  gave  the  nation  General  Taylor. 

Thurlow  Weed  and  his  associates  were 
scanning  the  horizon  for  a  warrior  hero  whose 
past  would  not  stand  in  his  way,  and  grim 
Zackary  Taylor  proved  their  man.  He  had 
no  past,  and  although  he  had  never  voted  in 
his  life,  and  had  never  expressed  any  predi 
lections  for  party  excepting  that  he  had  ad 
mired  Henry  Clay  and  had  worn  homespun, 
the  Whig  politicians  took  him  in  their  arms 
and  gently  nursed  his  candidacy.  The  rough 
and  ready  frontiersman  and  victorious  sol 
dier  was  made  a  popular  hero.  In  the  party 
prints,  and  in  "people's  meetings,"  he  was 
proclaimed.  On  February  22,  1848,  an 
enormous  Whig  mass  meeting  was  held  in 
Philadelphia  to  celebrate  Washington's 
birthday,  and  the  battle  of  Buena  Vista, 
and  to  nominate  Taylor  for  President.  To 
set  his  candidacy  on  a  partisan  basis  the  old 
general  was  called  "an  undoubted  Whig." 
At  first  reluctant  to  assume  so  important  a 


256    Five  American  Politicians 

role,  the  simple  soldier  was  soon  made  to  be 
lieve  that  he  was  the  man  for  the  place,  that 
the  people  called  to  him,  and  that  he  must 
obey  their  call. 

Clay  grew  restive  under  the  increasing 
clamor  for  the  General.  The  popularity  of 
the  military  candidate  chafed  upon  his 
pride.  It  galled  him  to  think  that  any 
other  than  Henry  Clay  could  be  the  Whig 
candidate.  He  could  not  see  how  so  insig 
nificant  and  unknown  a  person  could  assume 
to  be  a  rival  of  Henry  Clay.  He  had  for 
gotten  the  lesson  that  Harrison  had  taught 
him.  He  was  soon  to  learn  it  over  again  in 
humility  and  chagrin.  In  April,  1848,  he 
wrote  a  letter  permitting  the  Whigs  to  "use 
his  name  "  in  the  national  convention.  This 
public  utterance,  he  supposed,  would  effect 
ually  put  Taylor  out  of  the  way.  But  the 
old  General  had  tasted  the  s\veets  of  ambi 
tion's  cup,  and  announced  that  if  he  could 
not  get  the  Whig  nomination,  he  would  run 
as  the  people's  candidate,  on  a  ticket  of  his 
own.  Here  was  magnificent  audacity.  A 
man  who  had  never  approached  the  ballot 
box  dared  to  beard  the  great  Whig  lion  in 
his  native  cave!  With  the  backing  of  the 
politicians,  Taylor's  boldness  ceased  to  be 
humorous.  When  the  manifesto  was  made 
known  to  Clay,  he  was  violently  angered; 
when  he  learned  that  even  his  beloved  Ken 
tucky  was  turning  against  him,  his  wrath 
was  turned  into  humiliation  and  grief. 


Henry  Clay 257 


The  Whig  convention  met  June  seventh  in 
Philadelphia.  On  the  first  ballot  Taylor  had 
111  votes,  Clay  97,  the  rest  scattering.  On 
the  fourth  ballot  Taylor's  vote  had  grown  £_ 
to  171,  while  Clay's  had  dwindled  to  only! 
32.  For  the  first  time  in  his  long  career, 
the  Kentucky  delegation  deserted  its  idol 
ized  son.  The  convention  was  bedlam. 
Clay  could  command  only  a  minority,  but 
they  were  turbulent  in  their  opposition  to 
Taylor,  and  virulent  in  their  anger  against 
the  New  York  domination. 

Every  attempt  to  ratify  a  reasonable  anti-  j 
slavery  resolution  was  shouted  down  amidst  \ 
the  mingled  jeers  of  the  southern  Whigs  and  \ 
the  dire  threats  of  the  "  conscience  Whigs,"    \ 
until  the  latter  left  the  hall  in  disgust,  de 
nouncing  the  disgraceful  proceedings,  and    / 
disclaiming  any  further  allegiance  to  the 
Whig  party.     Slavery  was  the  rock  upon 
which  Clay's  party  was  wrecked.     It  had 
tried  through  duplicity  to  lure  both  north    J 
and  south  into  its  ranks.     It  succeeded  in    | 
1848.     But   it  was  the  last    victory.    The     ] 
storm  of  anti-slavery  conviction  swept  it     I 
high  upon  the  rocks,  a  mangled  wreck  of 
driftwood  and  cordage. 

While  his  coalition  was  thus  crumbling  to  •' 
pieces  under  the  elements  of  public  opinion, 
poor  Clay  was  pleading  with  his  friends  to 
allow  him  to  remain  in  solitude  and  peace. 
Great  domestic  affliction  had  bowed  his  heart 
in  grief.  Six  fair  daughters  had  died,  one  son 


17 


258    Five  American  Politicians 

was  a  lunatic,  another  a  spendthrift,  his 
most  promising  son  fell  at  Buena  Vista.  His 
estate  was  heavily  encumbered  and  his 
health  broken.  He  thought  seriously  of 
selling  his  beloved  Ashland.  One  day  when 
he  went  to  his  bank  to  make  a  payment,  he 
was  told  that  all  his  obligations  were  paid. 
"Who  paid  them?"  he  asked  quickly. 
The  banker  would  only  say  that  some 
friends  had  discharged  all  the  debts.  Only 
the  persuasion  of  his  family  and  intimate 
friends  finally  impelled  the  proud  man  to  ac 
cept  this  generosity. 

Fifty  years  of  constant  activity  in  public 
affairs  had  incapacitated  Clay  for  repose  and 
leisure.  The  slavery  question  was  now  up 
permost  in  the  thought  of  all  men,  and  since 
Henry  Clay  had  ceased  to  be  a  candidate,  he 
at  seventy-two  took  up  the  work  where  he 
had  laid  it  down  at  twenty-two.  In  a  let 
ter  to  a  friend  he  set  forth  his  plans  of  grad 
ual  emancipation  and  transportation  to  Li 
beria.  It  was  practically  the  theory  of  his 
youth,  rehabilitated  in  the  logic  of  old  age. 

If  the  country  was  through  with  Henry 
Clay,  the  Master  of  Coalition,  it  had  yet  to 
utter  its  loudest  call  to  Henry  Clay,  the  Pa 
cificator.  In  the  autumn  of  1849  he  was 
unanimously  chosen  by  the  Kentucky  legis 
lature  to  his  old  seat  in  the  United  States 
senate.  He  left  the  rural  quiet  of  his  re 
tirement  to  lead  in  the  last  and  greatest 
battle  of  his  long  and  eventful  life. 


Henry  Clay 259 

The  war  with  Mexico  was  a  southern  war, 
sullenly  submitted  to  by  the  north.  The 
slave  states  were  eager  to  enjoy  the  fair 
fruits  of  conquest,  the  free  states  were  loath 
to  dedicate  new  lands  to  the  cause  of  their 
enemy.  Thus  arose  a  quarrel  over  the  di— 
vision  of  the  spoils.  The  issue  was  imme 
diately  shaped  by  economic  forces  at  work 
in  the  remotest  portion  of  the  newly  ac 
quired  territory.  Gold  was  the  lodestone 
that  drew  thousands  of  fortune-seekers  to 
California;  and  when  these  rugged  men 
came  to  Washington  with  a  free-state  consti- 
ution  in  their  hands,  they  brought  conster 
nation  to  the  south,  courage  to  the  north, 
and  a  crisis  to  the  Union. 

When  Clay  reached  Washington,  the  at 
mosphere  was  charged  with  the  electric 
forces  of  disunion,  threatening  to  shape 
themselves  and  hurl  their  swift  and  destruc 
tive  bolts  against  the  national  government. 
Insolent  words  were  loudly  spoken  every 
where,  in  hotels,  on  streets,  in  the  chambers 
of  government;  insults  were  offered  the  Union 
on  every  public  occasion.  The  constellation 
of  stars  in  the  national  flag  was  about  to  dis 
solve  itself  into  the  nebular  units  whence  it 
had  sprung.  Clay  was  amazed  at  the  boldness 
of  the  southern  secessionists.  He  had  hoped 
to  remain  a  calm  observer  of  events,  "rarely 
speaking,"  as  he  wrote  to  a  friend.  But  the 
events  were  too  dramatic  to  allow  repose, 
too  laden  with  danger  to  permit  of  silence. 


260    Five  American  Politicians 

Henry  Clay  the  candidate  was  dead; 
Henry  Clay  the  patriot  was  throbbing  with 
life.  No  more  dualism,  no  more  dodging  of 
issues,  no  more  expediency  for  him.  The 
statesman  of  compromise,  indeed,  could  not 
view  the  great  issue  as  did  the  newly  elected 
senators,  Salmon  P.  Chase,  of  Ohio,  and  Wil 
liam  H.  Seward,  of  New  York,  as  moral  evils 
to  be  forthwith  eradicated,  root  and  branch. 
But  he  did  forsee  that  ultimately  slavery 
must  pass  away,  and  he  heartily  believed 
that  the  only  pathway  to  peace  lay  through 
the  neutral  field  of  compromise. 

The  specific  issues  were  fivefold:  First, 
the  admission  of  California  as  a  free  state, 
opposed  by  the  south;  second,  the  applica 
tion  of  the  Wilmot  Proviso  to  the  remainder 
of  the  conquered  country,  opposed  by  the 
south;  third,  the  adjustment  of  the  Texan 
boundary,  the  south  claiming  the  Rio  Grande 
boundary  for  the  state,  thereby  extending 
the  confines  of  a  slave  state,  the  north  insist 
ing  upon  the  historical  boundary,  extending 
the  free  territory  of  New  Mexico ;  fourth,  the 
question  of  a  fugitive  slave  law,  allowing  the 
master  to  pursue  his  fleeing  slaves  into  the 
free  states;  and,  finally,  the  abolition  of 
slavery  in  the  District  of  Columbia  and  the 
prohibition  of  the  slave  trade  therein. 

It  was  on  the  29th  day  of  January,  1850, 
that  Clay  arose  to  announce  to  an  expectant 
nation  his  "  comprehensive  scheme  of  ad 
justment."  Concession  was  the  spirit,  pa- 


Henry  Clay 261 

triotism  the  motive  of  his  plan.  He  sought 
to  be  reasonable,  that  he  might  ^ appeal  to 
reason;  conciliatory,  that  he  might  implore 
justice;  cautious,  that  he  might  not  offend; 
and  patriotic,  that  he  might  create  a  na 
tional  fervor.  His  eloquence  became  almost 
supernatural,  and  he  invested  his  cause  with 
such  power  of  argument  and  lofty  sentiment 
that  the  world  followed  his  sentences  with 
delight  and  his  sentiments  with  reverence. 

This  was  the  framework  of  his  plan :  First, 
California  should  be  at  once  admitted  as  a 
free  state.  This  was  agreeable  to  the  north. 
Second,  that  congress  prepare  territorial 
governments  for  New  Mexico  and  Utah 
without  any  restrictions  as  to  slavery.  This 
sacrificed  the  Wilmot  Proviso  and  displeased 
the  north;  it  did  not  authorize  slavery  and 
it  did  therefore  not  content  the  south. 
Third,  that  the  Rio  Grande  boundary  be  vir 
tually  adopted  and  Texas  be  paid  an  indem 
nity.  This  did  not  greatly  antagonize  either 
contestant.  Fourth,  that  Maryland  must 
consent  before  slavery  could  be  abolished  in 
the  District  of  Columbia,  but  that,  fifth,  the 
slave  trade  be  prohibited  therein.  This  was 
clearly  middle  ground.  Sixth,  that  the  fu 
gitive  slave  law  be  made  more  rigid.  And 
finally,  that  congress  had  no  authority  to 
prohibit  the  slave  trade  between  slave  states. 
These  latter  to  please  the  south. 

Clay  gave  his  colleagues  a  week  to  study 
his  plan  before  he  opened  the  debate. 


262    Five  American  Politicians 

The  fifth  day  of  February,  1850,  remains  a 
memorable  day  in  the  annals  of  our  parlia 
mentary  history.  On  that  day  the  great  de 
bate  on  the  last  compromise  with  slavery  was 
opened  by  the  Master  of  Compromise.  The 
"Old  Prince"  was  73  years  old,  feeble  and 
sickly,  hardly  able  to  take  his  customary  walk 
to  the  capitol.  "  I  feel  myself  quite  weak  and 
exhausted  this  morning/'  he  remarked  to  a 
friend  upon  whose  arm  he  leaned  heavily  as 
he  climbed  the  capitol  steps.  But  it  was 
merely  the  infirmity  of  the  flesh.  The  spirit 
of  this  wonderful  man  bowed  only  under  the 
burden  of  impending  national  disaster.  To 
his  friends,  solicitous  for  his  health,  implor 
ing  him  to  postpone  the  debate,  he  avowed 
that  his  life  was  of  little  consequence  com 
pared  with  the  preservation  of  the  Union. 

The  increased  tension  of  the  situation 
had  quickened,  public  expectation.  When 
Clay  entered  the  senate  chamber  he  found 
himself  the  center  of  a  notable  and 
wonderful  throng.  Grouped  around  him 
were  the  most  talented  men  of  his  country. 
The  senate  itself  was  composed  of  a  galaxy 
of  brilliant  minds.  At  least  three  of  these 
senators,  including  Clay,  were  men  of  the 
very  first  magnitude.  These  were  Calhoun, 
the  metaphysician  of  nullification,  and  Web 
ster,  the  majestic  defender  of  the  constitu 
tion.  Scarcely  less  distinguished  was  Ben- 
ton,  whose  power  for  research  was  almost 
superhuman,  and  Stephen  A.  Douglas,  whose 


Henry  Clay 263 

incisive  logic  was  the  potent  ally  of  a  wonder 
fully  active  mind,  and  Cass,  dogmatic,  cau 
tious,  ambitious,  the  associate  of  Clay  in  his 
efforts  for  compromise.  There  also  sat 
Thomas  Corwin,  whose  wit  and  eloquence  had 
won  him  the  plaudits  of  the  whole  land,  and 
Berrien,  the  "  American  Cicero,"  and  Hanni 
bal  Hamlin,  savior  of  the  Wilmot  Proviso,  and 
later  the  Vice-President  under  Linclon;  and 
John  P.  Hale,  New  Hampshire's  sturdy  anti- 
slavery  advocate  and  later  presidential  candi 
date  of  the  Liberty  party ;  and  "Honest  John" 
Davis,  the  able  colleague  of  Webster,  whose 
record  for  practical  statescraft  has  been  un 
fortunately  forgotten  in  the  glorification  of  his 
greater  colleague;  and  John  Bell,  later  the  can 
didate  for  the  presidency  of  the  Constitutional 
Union  party;  and  Daniel  S.  Dickenson,  an 
orator  of  great  ability  and  the  friend  and  helper 
of  Lincoln;  and  William  L.  Dayton,  an  able 
jurist,  the  friend  and  adviser  of  President 
Taylor,  and  the  first  Vice-Presidential  can 
didate  of  the  Republican  party.  And  there 
sat  Jefferson  Davis,  whom  fate  had  selected 
for  the  active  leader  in  the  very  movement 
that  Clay  so  arduously  sought  to  avert,  with 
King,  of  Alabama,  and  Foote,  of  Mississippi, 
and  Mason,  of  Virginia,  and  Atchison,  of 
Missouri,  a  potent  partnership  in  the  death 
struggle  of  slavery.  These  were  confronted 
by  Seward,  of  New  York,  and  Chase,  of  Ohio, 
leaders  of  the  newer  statesmanship  of  anti- 
slavery  aggression. 


264    Five  American  Politicians 

Ranged  around  this  remarkable  group  of 
senators,  upon  the  floor  of  the  chamber, 
were  members  of  the  diplomatic  corps,  con 
gressmen  from  the  other  side  of  the  capitol, 
judges,  who  had  left  their  benches,  and  cabi 
net  members  who  had  abandoned  their 
desks,  all  to  hear  the  eloquent  Clay  plead  his 
cause  of  conciliation.  And  beyond  these 
statesmen  and  diplomats  and  jurists,  con 
gesting  the  aisles,  overflowing  the  galleries, 
filling  the  corridors,  sweeping  down  the 
capitol  steps,  and  reaching  far  out  into  the 
street,  was  the  crowd;  the  crowd  that  Clay 
loved  more  than  he  loved  the  great  and  the 
wise,  and  the  crowd  that  loved  him  with 
filial  affection  and  revered  him  with  a 
strange  devotion.  From  Baltimore  and 
New  York  and  Philadelphia  and  Boston  and 
all  the  country  round  they  poured,  these 
people,  these  hordes,  to  listen  once  again 
to  the  winning  accents  and  rolling  sentences 
of  their  idol.  They  feared  it  might  be  his 
last  public  appearance.  The  years  that  had 
dealt  so  harshly  with  his  hopes  had  dealt  no 
more  kindly  with  his  frame.  "Light  Horse 
Harry  of  the  West"  was  becoming  an  old 
man. 

When  he  rose  to  address  the  president  of 
the  senate,  he  was  greeted  with  applause. 
The  crowd  outside  the  door  caught  up  the 
cheering  and  the  corridors  resounded  with 
wild  %uzzahs,  which  were  reechoed  from  the 
streets. 


Henry  Clay 265 

The  orator  soon  found  his  voice  and  spoke 
with  all  the  power  of  his  former  years.  His 
speech  lasted  two  days.  Its  tone  was  con 
ciliatory.  Of  the  north  he  asked  forbear 
ance,  of  the  south  he  pleaded  patience,  of  all 
he  demanded  patriotism  and  loyalty  to  the 
Union.  He  traced  the  outgrowth  of  the  pre 
vailing  excitement  to  the  War  with  Mexico, 
and  foretold  the  horrors  of  the  civil  war  that 
would  surely  follow  in  the  wake  of  secession. 

On  the  second  day  it  was  very  apparent 
that  he  was  proceeding  only  under  the  great 
est  determination  of  his  will  power.  Several 
times  he  had  to  pause  for  rest,  but  he  would 
not  consent  to  an  adjournment  and  the  fur 
ther  postponement  of  the  question.  When 
he  concluded,  the  crowd  from  without  swept 
through  the  senate  chamber  to  take  him  by 
the  hand,  to  kiss  him  and  to  caress  him,  and 
bestow  upon  him  every  possible  mark  of 
regard  and  affection. 

Probably  this  speech,  and  the  sustained 
effort  it  called  forth,  hastened  his  death. 
While  he  lingered  two  years  longer,  he  never 
regained  his  former  vigor. 

The  debate  thus  auspiciously  begun  is  one 
of  the  greatest  and  longest  in  the  annals  of 
congress.  Through  the  spring  and  all  the 
long,  hot  summer,  the  discussion  ebbed  and 
flowed.  The  people  followed  its  arguments, 
its  lofty  flights  of  oratory  and  bitter  personal 
ities,  with  a  sustained  interest  born  of  fear 
for  their  country  and  hope  for  their  cause. 


266    Five  American  Politicians 

Calhoun  answered  Clay  on  March  4.  He 
was  too  feeble  to  speak.  So  he  reclined  on 
a  couch  while  Mason,  of  Virginia,  read  his 
closely  woven  arguments.  It  was  the  argu 
ment  of  a  dying  man  in  behalf  of  a  dying 
cause.  Webster  followed  with  his  pitiable 
"Seventh  of  March  speech,"  wherein  he 
abandoned  his  former  attitude  on  the  Wil- 
mot  Proviso,  excused  slavery  in  Texas, 
taunted  the  "Conscience  Whigs,"  condemned 
the  abolitionists,  commanded  more  stringent 
fugitive  slave  laws,  and  prophesied  that  se 
cession  could  be  accomplished  only  by  force. 
This  strange  speech  he  concluded  with  a 
peroration  that  dwelt  upon  the  blessings  of 
a  united  country  and  pleaded  the  cause  of 
the  Union. 

Seward  and  Chase  angered  the  south, 
abashed  the  north,  and  aggravated  the 
middlemen,  by  their  moral  appeal  to  "a 
higher  law,  "  by  their  bitter  and  unqualified 
denunciation  of  slavery  as  a  sin;  by  their  bold 
onslaught  upon  the  stronghold  of  the  Whigs. 
The  old-school  statesmen,  who  had  partici 
pated  in  many  debates  upon  slavery,  were 
utterly  confounded  by  these  young  prophets. 
Little  did  they  dream  that  within  one  short 
decade  these  "impudent  upstarts"  would 
become  the  masters  of  the  land,  because 
they  discerned  the  truth  that  slavery  was 
a  moral  issue. 

The  debate  dragged  on.  Clay's  task  was 
almost  the  impossible;  his  efforts  were 


Henry  Clay 267 

almost  supernatural.  His  "  Omnibus  Bill " 
did  not  please  the  extreme  pro-slavery 
men,  it  was  ridiculed  by  the  extreme  anti- 
slavery  men.  It  satisfied  no  one.  Some" 
were  opposed  to  it  because  it  gave  too  much 
to  Texas,  others  because  it  did  not  abolish 
slavery  in  the  District  of  Columbia.  Some 
fought  it  because  they  saw  danger  in  aban 
doning  the  military  government  of  Utah  and 
New  Mexico ;  others  because  they  would  not 
vote  for  the  immediate  annexation  of 
California.  The  opposition  of  President 
Taylor  was  abruptly  ended  by  his  death  in 
July. 

Clay  was  on  the  floor  constantly  and  spoke 
almost  daily,  rallying,  dispersing,  answering, 
asking,  threatening,  pleading.  His  body 
was  so  enfeebled  that  he  could  scarcely  reach 
the  senate  chamber.  Yet  he  fought  off  the 
fatigue  and  pain  that  he  might  fight  the 
enemies  of  his  country.  Never  were  his 
brilliant  powers  more  in  evidence.  His  whole 
spirit  was  aflame  with  zeal  for  the  Union. 
"If  Kentucky  to-morrow  should  unfurl  the 
banner  of  resistance  unjustly,  I  will  never 
fight  under  that  banner.  I  owe  a  paramount 
allegiance  to  the  whole  Union,  a  subordinate 
one  to  my  own  state. 

"  The  senator  speaks  of  Virginia  being  my 
country.  This  Union,  sir,  is  my  country; 
the  thirty  states  are  my  country.  Kentucky 
is  my  country,  and  Virginia  no  more  than 
any  state  in  the  Union." 


268    Five  American  Politicians 

And  again:  "Let  us  go  to  the  fountain 
of  unadulterated  patriotism,  and,  perform 
ing  a  solemn  lustration,  return,  divested  of 
all  selfish,  sinister,  and  sordid  impurities, 
and  think  alone  of  our  God,  our  country, 
our  conscience,  and  our  glorious  Union." 

These  sentences  are  the  key  to  Clay's  com 
promise.  That  his  policy  was  temporary 
must  now  be  admitted ;  that  hi§  purpose  was 
pure  and  lofty  cannot  be  doubted. 

The  south  answered  by)  threats  of  war; 
they  pictured  the  land  red  in  gore.and  blood. 
Clay  replied:  "If  blood  is  to  be  spilt,  by 
whose  fault  is  it  to  be  spilt?.  -Upon  the  sup 
position  I  maintain,  it  will  be  the  fault  of 
those  who  raise  the  standard  of  disunion  and 
endeavor  to  prostrate  this  government;  and, 
sir,  when  that  is  done,  so  long  as  it  please 
God  to  give  me  a  voice  to  express  my  senti 
ments,  or  an  arm,  weak  and  enfeebled  as  it 
may  be  by  age,that  voice  and  that  arm  will 
be  on  the  side  of  my  country,  for  the  support 
of  the  general  authority,  and  for  the  main 
tenance  of  the  powers  of  this  Union ! " 

When  Rhett,  of  South  Carolina,  proposed 
to  his  neighbors  in  a  public  meeting  that 
they  at  once  secede,  Clay  poured  upon  him 
the  copious  streams  of  his  invective.  Barn- 
well,  senator  from  South  Carolina,  Calhoun's 
successor,  told  Clay  that  he  had  treated 
Rhett  disrespectfully.'-  The  old  fighter  was 
on  his  feet  in  an  instant.  "Mr.  President, 
I  said  nothing  with  respect  to  the  character 


Henry  Clay 269 

of  Mr.  Rhett.  I  know  him  personally,  and 
have  some  respect  for  him.  But  if  he  pro 
nounced  the  sentiment  attributed  to  him  of 
raising  the  standard  of  disunion  and  of  re 
sistance  to  the  common  government,  what 
ever  he  has  been,  if  he  follows  up  that  dec 
laration  by  corresponding  overt  acts,  he  will 
be  a  traitor"  the  orator's  voice  shrieked, 
"and  I  hope  he  will  meet  the  fate  of  a  traitor! " 
These  words  reechoed  from  every  state,  like 
Patrick  Henry's  famous  challenge  to  the 
Virginia  Royalists. 

At  this  time  a  delegation  of  manufacturers 
from  Boston  called  on  him  at  his  hotel  to  get 
favorable  tariff  legislation.  He  told  them 
not  to  talk  to  him  about  tariffs  when  it  was 
doubtful  whether  they  had  a  country.  He 
advised  them  to  urge  some  of  their  fanatical 
Massachusetts  congressmen  to  give  up  some 
of  their  sectional  jealousies  and  foster  peace. 
"When  the  country  is  saved,  I  will  attend 
to  your  tariff."  The  men  were  naturally  dis 
pleased,  but  on  the  next  day  Clay  won  their 
hearts  by  his  warm  appeals. 

It  was  a  magnificent  fight,  this  struggle 
of  an  old  man  against  congress.  For  it 
seemed  as  if  all  were  against  him.  One  after 
the  other  of  his  measures  was  amended  to 
death,  until  there  finally  remained  only  the 
bill  establishing  a  territorial  government  in 
Utah. 

On  the  second  of  August  Clay  was  com 
pelled  to  give  up  the  struggle.  The  strain 


270    Five  American  Politicians 

of  the  six  months  had  exhausted  his  nerves, 
the  torrid  heat  of  the  capitol  had  evaporated 
his  energies,  but  most  of  all,  the  defeat  of  his 
measures  had  broken  his  heart.  He  went 

Newport  to  seek  rest  and  strength.  As 
soon  as  he  had  gone,  the  senators  realized 
what  they  had  done.  His  inspiring  presence 
had  somehow  led  them  to  hope  for  another 
remedy,  but  now  that  they  were  left  alone 
to  face  the  crisis  on  their  own  responsibility, 
they  saw  the  futility  of  any  other  immediate 
settlement.  They  hastened  to  pass  the  com 
promise.  His  absence  accomplished  what 
his  presence  had  failed  to  consummate.  The 
compromise  had  been  bulked  into  one 
measure  and  was  defeated.  "  Omnibus 
Bills"  are  never  popular.  But  no  sooner 
/had  Clay  left  the  senate  than  the  friends  of 
[  the  Union  took  apart  his  great  structure 
and  gave  it  piecemeal  to  the  senate.  When 
he  returned  the  last  of  August,  Clay  found 
every  one  of  his  recommendations  adopted 
except  the  one  prohibiting  slave  traffic  in 
the  District  of  Columbia,  and  this  was  made 
a  law  within  a  few  weeks. 

Thus  was  accomplished  the  last  of  the  great 
compromises  between  the  variant  sections. 
Clay  had  for  the  third  time  won  the  honor 
able  title  of  "The  Great  Pacificator."  His 
genius,  his  personality,  and  his  conscience 
peculiarly  fitted  him  for  the  task  of  peace 
maker.  Through  his  mastery  of  parlia 
mentary  tactics,  he  became  the  most  for- 


Henry  Clay 271 

mid  able  antagonist  in  congress;  through  his 
wonderfully  winning  disposition,  he  became 
the  lodestone  of  love  and  devotion;  through 
his  firm  and  lofty  convictions  of  the  necessity 
of  ultimate  emancipation,  he  became  the  in 
vincible  champion  of  Union  and  peace. 
There  was  nothing  dogmatic  in  Clay's  con 
stitution,  and  when  he  had  laid  aside  his 
desire  to  be  president,  there  remained  not 
a  trace  of  the  expediency  of  egotism.  He 
loved  the  Union,  and  he  loved  peace,  and  be 
lieved  that  the  Union  could  only  be  saved 
by  gentle  compromise,  by  the  quiet  arts  of 
peace.  And  as  he  journeyed  home  to  his 
beloved  Lexington,  feeble  and  exhausted 
after  this  terrific  struggle  of  eight  months 
for  union  and  peace,  over  every  arch  of  tri 
umph  under  which  he  was  carried  on  the 
arms  of  enthusiastic  multitudes  was  written 
the  beautiful  precept,  "  Blessed  is  the  Peace 
maker." 

Blessed,  indeed,  could  the  great  orator 
feel,  after  he  had  been  welcomed  home  by 
his  state  and  his  neighbors.  Blessed  in  the 
quiet  repose  of  peaceful  Ashland,  blessed  in 
the  love  of  the  whole  peoples,  within  whose 
hearts  he  had  transformed  the  dread  of  war 
into  assurance  of  peace,  blessed  in  his  own 
heart,  for  his  conscience  gave  sanction  to  his 
great  work  of  compromise. 

But  Clay's  judgment  was  not  as  sound  as 
his  heart.  His  foresight  was  foreshortened 
by  his  anxiety  for  peace.  A  compromise 


272    Five  American  Politicians 

that  cost  so  many  concessions,  and  that  de 
molished  so  many  convictions,  was  built 
only  upon  shifting  sands,  and  when  the 
storms  of  moral  rage,  aroused  by  the  enforce 
ment  of  the  fugitive  slave  law,  beat  upon 
that  house,  it  fell,  and  with  the  fall  came 
the  crash  of  arms. 

Clay  was  not  permitted  to  see  its  fall. 
But  the  two  remaining  years  that  were  al 
lotted  to  him  were  portent  with  the  ulti 
mate  disaster.  His  trembling  hands  were 
kept  busy  erecting  props,  to  uphold  the 
structure  of  his  compromise,  and  his  voice, 
enfeebled  with  age,  rose  again  and  again  to 
assure  his  countrymen  that  the  structure  was 
safe. 

Men  cried  " Peace!  Peace!"  but  in  their 
hearts  they  knew  that  there  was  no  peace. 
\The  fugitive  slave  law  was  the  fearful  dis- 
•turber.  As  long  as  slavery  was  strictly  con 
fined  to  the  south,  the  average  northern 
voter  did  not  speculate  about  the  moral 
wrong  of  bondage.  When  the  southern  hot 
heads  carried  their  secession  propaganda 
into  congress,  the  northern  Whig  was  an 
gered,  \but  when  these  slaveholders  pursued 
the  fainting,  panting  fugitive  into  the  free 
states,  and  dragged  him  by  force  back  into 
bondage,  then  the  phlegmatic  northerner 
had  his  passion  inflamed  by  his  conscience, 
and  his  resentment  was  immediate  and  ef 
fective.  As  long  as  this  object  lesson  of  the 
worst  features  of  slavery  continued  to  be 


Henry  Clay 273 

enacted  before  the  eyes  of  the  north,  how 
could  a  compromise  be  secure? 

Even  Clay  began  to  doubt  the  finality  of 
his  compromise.  In  1851  he  joined  his  Whig 
colleagues  in  congress  in  a  pronunciamento 
declaring  that  the  compromise  was  sufficient 
and  final.  Between  the  lines,  one  could  read 
the  fears  of  the  signers,  that  their  peremp 
tory  declaration  was  false.  When,  a  month 
later,  Shadrach,  a  fugitive  slave,  was  wrest 
ed  from  a  United  States  marshal  in  Boston 
by  a  mob  of  blacks,  Clay  arose  to  assure  the 
excited  men  from  the  south  that  the  fugitive 
slave  law  was  generally  obeyed,  and  that 
only  one  or  two  violations  were  recorded. 
His  tone  had  in  it  the  suspicions  of  misgiving, 
although  he  succeeded  marvelously  well  in 
making  men  sanguine  of  the  virtues  of  the 
compromise. 

To  an  invitation  to  address  the  citizens  of 
New  York,  he  replied  in  a  long  letter,  setting 
forth  again,  and  for  the  last  time,  his  reasons 
for  believing  in  the  efficiency  of  the  compro 
mise.  It  was  his  final  extended  public  ut 
terance,  and  was  an  appeal  to  the  south  to 
be  reasonable  in  their  demands,  and  to  the 
north  to  be  patient  in  their  actions. 

It  was  his  last  public  appeal.  The  hack 
ing  cough  was  not  relieved  by  a  sojourn  in 
Cuba,  nor  did  a  summer's  rest  in  Ashland  re 
store  him  to  vigor  and  health.  In  the  fall  of 
1851  he  traveled  for  the  last  time  over  the 
familiar  highways  from  Lexington  to  Wash- 


274    Five  American  Politicians 

ington.  He  passed  all  the  scenes  of  former 
glory.  The  feeble  old  man  could  not  but  be 
conscious  that  it  was  the  last  time  he  was  to 
look  upon  the  familiar  landmarks,  and  the 
friends  that  surged  around  his  carriage  must 
have  realized  that  for  the  last  time  were  they 
peering  into  those  lustrous  eyes,  undimmed 
by  combat  and  by  years,  and  for  the  last 
time  were  they  grasping  the  hand  that  had 
been  clasped  by  millions  of  his  enthusiastic 
followers.  He  was  able  to  attend  only  one 
session  of  the  senate.  The  scenes  of  his  ac 
tivity  were  shifted  to  his  room  in  the  National 
Hotel.  For  even  sickness  could  not  rob  Henry 
Clay  of  his  leadership.  From  a  sickbed  Clay 
directed  his  defense  of  the  compromise.  His 
political  activities  did  not  cease  but  he  was 
far  from  sanguine  of  the  success  of  his  coali 
tion  in  the  coming  presidential  campaign. 

His  coalition  was,  indeed,  rapidly  falling 
to  pieces.  The  old  Whig  issues  \vere  no 
longer  of  interest  to  the  voter.  The  Great 
Issue  was  avoided  by  the  leaders.  The 
southern  Whigs  were  flocking  to  the  Demo 
cratic  party,  and  the  "  conscience  Whigs " 
were  rallying  around  the  new  Liberty 
Party.  In  congress  a  majority  of  the 
Whigs  refused  to  caucus  on  the  finality  of  the 
compromise.  Leaders,  too,  were  wanting. 
Webster  never  was  a  party  leader.  Clay 
was  on  the  point  of  death,  the  new  men  were 
half-hearted  in  their  Whigism,  and  could 
not  agree  upon  a  candidate. 


Henry  Clay 275 

Three  men  aspired  to  the  nomination. 
Webster,  made  unavailable  by  his  greatness 
and  unpopular  by  his  Seventh  of  March  speech ; 
Gen.  Scott,  put  forward  by  the  anti-slavery 
Whigs,  and  therefore  rejected  by  the  south 
ern  wing  of  the  party;  and  President  Fill- 
more,  an  eager  friend  of  the  compromise, 
and  popular  among  the  pro-slavery  Whigs. 

For  the  first  time  in  many  years,  Clay  was 
not  a  candidate.  He  had  again  been  asked 
by  zealous  followers,  in  1851,  to  allow  his 
name  to  be  presented,  but  his  answer  was 
unequivocal  and  direct.  The  overpowering 
ambition  had  been  finally  crushed.  How 
unfortunate  that  he  had  allowed  it  to  abide 
with  him  so  constantly.  It  is  a  great  mis 
take  for  a  public  man  to  set  his  heart  on  the 
presidency.  The  road  to  that  shining 
summit  of  political  glory  is  strewn  with  bro 
ken  hearts  and  shattered  hopes. 

Clay's  advice  to  the  Whigs,  that  they  nom 
inate  Fillmore,  was  rejected  by  the  national 
convention,  which  met  in  Baltimore  on  June 
10.  It  was  a  disorderly  meeting,  a  careful 
observer  could  see  the  lines  of  cleavage  widen 
ing  between  the  two  political  hemispheres  that 
were  to  fall  apart  within  another  four  years. 
The  south  brought  along  its  platform  and  its 
candidate.  The  platform  was  ratified, "but  the 
candidate  rejected,  and  Gen.  Scott,  a  man 
with  anti-slavery  convictions,  nominated. 

It  was  the  last  Whig  national  convention. 
It  nominated  a  liberty  candidate  on  a  slav- 


276    Five  American  Politicians 

ery  platform.  While  it  was  thus  inviting 
the  discord  that  led  to  its  ruin,  the  founder 
of  the  party  was  quietly  passing  away.  Be 
fore  he  died,  Clay  expressed  his  approval  of 
the  work  of  the  last  national  convention  of 
the  party  he  had  founded.  The  Democrats, 
with  their  candidate,  Franklin  Pierce,  of 
New  Hampshire,  "a  no'rthern  man  with 
southern  principles,"  triumphed  at  the  elec 
tion.  The  coalition  dissolved,  the  real  issue 
was  espoused  by  the  new  Republican  party, 
and  the  term  "  Whig  "  became  a  name  known 
only  to  our  political  history. 

On  June  29,  1852,  Henry  Clay  died. 
Neither  sickness,  nor  death,  could  rob  him 
of  the  affection  of  the  people.  His  son 
Thomas  wrote  on  May  8:  "Had  you  seen, 
as  I  have,  the  evidences  of  attachment  and 
interest  displayed  by  my  father's  friends, 
you  could  not  help  exclaiming,  as  he  fre 
quently  has  done,  'was  there  ever  man  had 
such  friends !'  The  best  and  first  in  the 
land  are  daily  and  hourly  offering  tokens  of 
their  love  and  esteem  for  him."  As  in  life 
he  had  been  the  center  of  affection,  so  in  sick 
ness  he  became  the  center  of  tender  solici 
tude,  and  in  death  the  center  of  universal 
sorrow.  On  July  1,  after  impressive  cere 
monies  in  the  senate  chamber,  attended  by 
senators  and  representatives,  the  President 
and  his  cabinet,  the  supreme  court  and  the 
diplomatic  corps,  the  officers  of  the  army 
and  the  navy,  the  body  began  its  last  jour- 


Henry  Clay 277 

ney  to  the  old  Kentucky  home.  Even  in  death 
Henry  Clay  had  his  progress.  The  funeral 
train  passed  through  Baltimore,  Wilmington, 
Philadelphia,  Trenton,  New  York,  Albany, 
Ithaca,  Syracuse,  Rochester,  Buffalo,  Cleve 
land,  Columbus,  Cincinnati,  Louisville. 
Everywhere  were  throngs,  not  exultant  in 
their  loud  huzzahs,  but  silent  with  grief  and 
sorrow.  They  buried  him  in  Lexington,  the 
little  city  that  had  grown  great  because  of 
his  greatness,  and  that  he  loved  so  devotedly. 

We  cannot  but  pause  and  reflect  upon  the 
strange  vicissitudes  and  paradoxes  of  this 
unfortunate  and  fascinating  man,  who  was 
at  once  the  most  applauded  and  most  de 
feated,  the  most  glorified  and  most  humbled 
man  in  our  history.  From  the  day  of  his 
majority,  to  the  very  moment  of  his  death, 
in  his  seventy-sixth  year,  he  was  a  leader  of 
men.  What  contributions  to  our  politics 
did  he  make  in  this  half  century  of  unpar 
alleled  activity?  To  determine  this  we  must 
view  his  career  in  its  threefold  nature,  as 
statesman,  as  politician,  as  orator. 

The  statesmanship  of  Henry  Clay  was  ag 
gressive,  and  yet  he  was  on  the  defensive  in 
nearly  every  administration  under  which  he 
served.  Reading  the  history  of  his  day 
alone,  his  statesmanship  seems  an  utter  fail 
ure,  yet  careful  scrutiny  will  reveal  the  perma 
nency  of  his  work.  The  issues  to  which  he 
dedicated  his  powers'"  were  the  tantt,  trie 


278    Five  American  Politicians 


b&nk,  and  inj£ma^4i»pFOTemeft%s.  Tariff 
"legislation,  from  its  very  nature,  cannot  be 
permanent,  it  rises  and  falls  with  the  tide  of 
business.  In  his  day  the  argument  of  pro 
tection  to  infant  industries  was  logical.  The 
opposition  he  encountered  was  from  the 
planters,  and  with  singular  blindness  he 
failed  to  see  that  it  was  not  agriculture,  but 
slavery,  that  opposed  his  American  system. 
His  projects  for  vast  systems  of  canals  and 
turnpikes  were  forestalled  by  the  invention 
of  the  steam  engine.  If  the  railway  had  not 
woven  the  country  into  unity  with  its  net 
work  of  steel,  there  can  remain  no  doubt  that 
the  waterways  and  roadways  advocated  by 
Clay,  would  have  become  a  necessity.  Of 
•the  national  bank,  it  can  be  said  that  it  is 
jstill  a  problem,  inviting  the  advocacy  and 
'the  opposition  of  the  most  enlightened  minds 
of  the  land.  It  is  commendation  enough  to 
say  that  Clay's  position  was  not  greatly  un 
like  that  of  Alexander  Hamilton  and  Albert 
Gallatin,  our  two  greatest  masters  of  finance, 
and  it  is  sufficient  praise  to  reflect  that  in  the 
time  of  our  national  crisis,  the  Supreme  Court 
sustained  his  contention  of  the  power  of  the 
federal  government  to  establish  such  fiscal 
agencies,  and  that  to-day  his  own  arguments 
I  are  rehearsed  by  publicists  and  financiers, 
lin  behalf  of  a  national  bank. 

His  failures  were  more  real  in  the  minor  is 
sues  that  engaged  his  thought.  His  public- 
land  prospect  was  short-sighted,  he  really 


Henry  Clay  279 


failed  to  discern  the  importance  of  these  vast 
public  domains,  in  spite  of  his  exuberant 
faith  in  the  unlimited  possibilities  of  the 
west.  His  scheme  of  distributing  the  pub 
lic  surplus  among  the  various  states  cannot 
commend  itself  to  wise  statesmanship.  His 
Panama  mission  suffered  a  pitiable  collapse, 
and  he  utterly  misjudged  the  temperament 
of  the  South  American  republics,  in  his  eager 
ness  to  defend  their  liberties  against  the  en 
croachments  of  royalty. 

His  greatest  contribution  to  American 
statesmanship  he  made  in  his  heroic  endeavors 
to  save  the  union  by  compromise.  The  last  re 
sort  of  hostile  convictions  is  war.  The  most 
awful  species  of  war  is  civil  war.  Clay  ded 
icated  himself  with  heroic  devotion  to  the 
averting  of  civil  war.  We  may  say  that  he 
failed  to  see  the  real  issue  in  his  Missouri 
Compromise,  and  in  the  tariff  compromise 
of  1833;  that  he  did  not  distinguish  between 
economic  fallacy  and  a  moral  wrong;  that 
his  theory  of  conciliation  and  forbearance 
merely  put  off,  until  the  bloody  morrow,  the 
fierce  fight  that  might  have  been  fought  to 
day;  that  compromise  with  such  an  issue  is 
wicked  procrastination.  For  us  these  words 
are  lightly  spoken;  for  those  who  lived  and 
moved  in  those  fervid,  intense,  ante-bellum 
days,  they  were  weighted  with  lead.  Clay 
was  superficial.  A  brilliant  man  is  rarely 
profound.  He  did  fail  to  see  the  gist  of  the 
Missouri  question  and  the  nullification  the- 


280    Five  American  Politicians 

ory.  He  did  fail  to  peer  far  enough  into  the 
undisclosed  future  to  see  that  free  and  bond 
labor  could  not  endure  side  by  side  in  a  re 
public.  He  did  fail  to  make  a  moral  issue 
of  slavery.  And  his  compromises  did  perish 
with  the  years.  But  let  us  reflect  that  with 
each  succeeding  compromise  he  strengthened 
the  sinews  of  the  north.  For  Calhoun  was 
right  when  he  said  that  delay  weakened 
slavery  and  strengthened  the  free  states. 
While  he  failed  to  see  that  war  must  ulti 
mately  settle  the  great  issue,  he  shortened 
the  evils  of  that  inevitable  struggle,  by  giv 
ing  the  north  time  to  outstrip  its  enemy  in 
every  activity  of  life.  In  the  light  of  his 
tory,  we  may  be  thankful  that  the  civil  war 
was  not  precipitated  in  1830,  or  1833,  or 
1850. 

And  yet,  how  futile  seem  the  fifty  years  of 
Henry  Clay's  statesmanship!  His  war  of 
1812  brought  us  no  substantial  gain.  His 
compromise  of  1820  was  repealed  in  thirty- 
four  years.  His  compromise  of  1833  lasted 
only  twenty  years  by  its  own  terms.  The 
crowning  compromise  of  1850  perished  after 
ten  miserable  years  of  existence.  What 
product  of  his  statecraft  remains  as  an  en 
during  monument  to  his  genius?  We  can 
only  reply,  that  it  is  the  mission  of  the  com 
promiser  to  prepare  great  issues  for  the  full 
ness  of  time. 

Were  his  contributions  to  politics  less 
transitory?  He  created  a  party  and  it  was 


Henry  Clay 281 

buried  with  him ;  he  brought  together  strange 
elements  in  a  national  coalition,  and  his  com 
bination  could  not  survive  him;  he  was  for 
twenty-five  years  an  aspirant  for  the  presi 
dency,  three  times  as  chosen  candidate  be 
fore  the  people,  and  twice  as  rejected  candi 
date  before  the  national  convention,  and  his 
constant  ambition  was  rewarded  only  by  con 
stant  defeat. 

While  Clay  was  a  chieftain  in  congress,  he; 
was  a  poor  party  leader.  His  political  judg 
ment  went  astray  too  often  to  make  him 
safe.  He  was  a  magnificent  fighter,  but  he 
could  not  discern  the  proper  moment  of  at 
tack.  He  was  heroic  in  action,  but  not  ju 
dicious  in  deliberation.  He  was  an  imperi 
ous  parliamentarian,  but  an  unskilled  party 
.boss.  He  grew  impatient  of  party  machin 
ery  and  party  discipline  was  distasteful  to; 
him.  He  hated  caucuses,  and  despised  con 
ventions;  he  deemed  them  manufactories 
where  little  men  are  inflated  into  greatness, 
for  party  purposes.  When  running  for  con 
gress,  he  ran  independently.  And  he  had 
only  one  canvass,  in  1816,  in  which  he  had 
to  contend  with  opposition.  He  had  voted 
for  the  "compensation  act,"  granting  con 
gressmen  a  yearly  salary  of  $1,500,  in  place 
of  a  per  diem  wage.  This  act  was  unpopular 
in  the  west,  where  the  pay  was  considered 
extravagant.  His  opponent  was  John  Pope, 
a  brave  soldier,  who  later  became  Jackson's 
governor  of  Arkansas.  The  two  rivals  made 


282    Five  American  Politicians 

a  personal  canvass  of  the  three  counties  in 
their  district,  and  closed  the  campaign  with 
a  joint  meeting  in  the  middle  of  the  district. 
Here  Clay  easily  triumphed.  His  eloquence 
in  laying  bare  the  attitude  of  Pope,  the  Fed 
eralist,  on  this  war  of  1812,  was  potent,  and 
he  was  reflected  by  a  majority  of  600.  ^- 
This  anecdote  illustrates  Clay's  political 
methods.  A  man  of  his  superior  endow 
ments  despises  artifice  and  conventionality. 
His  politics  were  personal,  his  appeals,  his 
onslaughts,  were  personal.  He  depended 
neither  on  patronage,  nor  on  organization 
,  for  his  prestige,  he  shone  with  a  native  bril- 
j  liancy  that  despised  reflected  light, 
t  But  such  personal  powers  cannot  be  a  sub- 
\  stitute  for  a  national  party  organization. 
Judgment,  care,  direction,  organization, 
are  needed  to  maintain  an  army  of  voters  in 
the  battle  field.  Clay's  genius  unfitted  him 
for  such  leadership.  In  his  own  candidacies 
he  manifested  very  poor  judgment.  He 
was  always  in  high  place  when  a  candidate 
for  the  Presidency,  as  speaker,  or  as  sen 
ator.  Thus  he  laid  himself  open  to  attack 
and  made  enemies.  He  could  not  see,  or  he 
would  not,  why  unknown  men  always  de 
feated  him.  He  complained  bitterly  of  this 
degradation.  "If  there  is  no  chance  for 
elections,  the  Gallant  Harry  of  the  West  will 
be  good  enough  for  nomination,  but  if  there 
is  a  chance,  the  union  will  be  searched  for  a 
military  man,  whose  principles  are  un- 


Henry  Clay 283 

known,  to  lead  the  party  into  fields  of  pat 
ronage."     Yet   Henry   Clay   made   himself' 
unavailable  by  his  persistent  application  of/ 
mis  judgment.     The  one  election  that  might 
have  brought  him  the  golden  crown,  he  lost 
by  compromising  with  his  better  self.     His 
over-anxiety  impelled  him  to  write  the  Ala-j 
bama  letters  on  Texas.     But   Clay    would 
never  admit  that  his  defeat  in  1844  could  be 
attributed  to  this  source.     It  is  strange  that 
he  could  not  see  the  popular  side  of  a  ques 
tion,  and  he  constantly  mistook  the  plaud-^j 
its  his  personality  inspired,  for  applause  of ; 
the  issues  he  defended.     His  attitude  on  the 
bank  question  was  ill  chosen.     He  might, 
without  jeopardy  to  his  convictions,  have 
postponed  his  severe  hostility  to  Jackson, 
until  after  the  election  of  1832.     His  per 
sistence  on  the  old  Whig  issues  after  time 
had  made  them  obsolete,  when  Texas,  Mex 
ico,  Oregon  were  the  words  that  tingled  in 
the  ears  of  the  voters,  reveal  a  want  of  keen 
political  insight.     For  the  rising  school  of 
politicians   he  had  only  haughty  contempt. 
The  tactics  of  Thurlow  Weed,  and  his  hench 
men,  were  as  disquieting  to  his  soul  as  they 
^W£re  destructive  to  his  aspirations. 

Clay,  as  a  politician,  was  too  ingenuous. 
His  political  talents  were  those  of  a  com 
mander,  but  not  of  a  plotter.     Thus  it  was 
that  he  could  gather  a  coalition,  but  he; 
could  not  lead  it  to  victory;  he  could  com-" 
mand  admiration,  but  he  could  not  command 


284    Five  American  Politicians 

\ 

majorities.     His  coalition  went  to  pieces  on 
the  reefs  of  slavery.  \ 

Do  you  ask  if  henad  seen  more  clearly 
the  real  issue  at  the  heart  of  all  these  surface 
agitations,  and  had  boldly  espoused  the  cause 
of  anti-slavery,  whether  his  party  could  not 
have  been   more  enduring?     I  reply,  that 
such  espousal  in  his  day  would  have  ruined 
his  influence  and  dissipated  his  powers.     He 
might  as  well  have  scattered  his  talents  to 
the  four  winds.     He  lived  in  the  day  of 
"  avoidance,     all    his    great    contemporaries 
avoided  the  slavery  issue.     A  political  coali 
tion    is  never  permanent.     Too  many  di 
verse  opinions  are  merged   for  a  temporary 
purpose.     These   various  elements  will  rub 
and  chafe  one  another  until  the  friction  gen 
erates  a  heat  that  will  prove  destructive. 
Clay's   coalition    could    not    be   enduring. 
TWhen  the  immediate   objects   for  which  it 
|  was  formed  were  attained,  it  could  not  unite 
(  on  the  Great  Issue,   and  it  fell  to  pieces. 
\  The  various  masses    that    constituted    its 
bulk  rearranged    themselves  into  more  per 
manent  forms  around  the  slavery  issue. 

Transitory,  therefore,  were  his  attain 
ments  in  politics.  But  again,  we  may  say 
that  the  politics  of  a  compromiser  can  be  no 
mjjcejasting  than  his  compromises. 

'Whatever  may  be  said  of  the  futility  of 
Clay's  statesmanship,  or  the  failure  of  his 
politics,  upon  his  oratory  there  can  be  only 
one  judgment.  With  the  mystery  of  speech 


Henry  Clay 285 

he  wrought  miracles  of  power.  The  tales 
that  are  related  of  his  oratorical  triumphs 
seem  more  fitted  for  the  pages  of  Arabian 
Nights  than  the  prosaic  record  of  American 
politics.  Every  endowment  of  nature  in 
tended  to  enhance  the  personal  power  of 
man  over  his  fellows  was  lavished  upon  him. 
Physically,  he  was  magnificent,  tall,  lithe, 
symmetrical;  when  roused  by  the  passion  of 
his  convictions  he  swayed  and  moved  like 
the  graceful  boughs  of  the  elm  in  a  breeze. 
His  head  was  large  and  set  all  the  phrenolo 
gists  agog.  His  brow  was  high  and  magnifi 
cently  arched.  His  eyes  were  small  and 
blue,  not  lowering,  like  Webster's,  but  sunny 
and  kind.  When  he  got  excited  they  seemed 
to  change  color.  All  of  his  features  were  as 
generous  in  area  as  his  disposition.  His 
nose  was  large,  his  ears  prominent,  his 
mouth  was  huge,  with  remarkable  powers  of 
expansion,  his  arms  and  legs  were  long,  his 
feet  and  hands  very  ample.  In  his  old  age 
men  crowded  around  him  for  a  handclasp 
and  ladies  for  a  kiss;  his  hands  and  mouth 
were  ample  for  all  demands. 

His  mind  was  not  profound  like  Webster's, 
nor  narrow  like  Calhoun's,  nor  logical  like 
Benton's.  It  was  broad  and  shallow,  and  } 
delighted  rather  in  the  pleasant  ripples  of 
the  surface  than  in  the  great  currents  of  the 
abyss.  Profundity  is  not  a  desideratum 
to  the  orator.  His  effect  must  be  produced 
instantaneously,  not  after  meditation. 


286    Five  American  Politicians 

(      In  temperament,  Clay  was  the  most  lova- 
l  ble  of  men.     He  was  as  winning  as  a  woman, 
as  strong  as  any  man.     He  was  kind,  gen 
erous,  never  bitter,  or  mean;  he  was  tropical 
f  in  the  luxury  of  his  warmth.     So  magnetic 
\  was  his  personality  that  it  attracted  even  his 
1  bitterest  foes.     Andrew  Jackson  was  per 
haps  his  only  enemy  whose  hatred  was  not 
allayed  by  the  sweetness  of  Clay's  disposi 
tion.     His   temperament   was    always  san 
guine.     The  many  clouds  that  passed  the 
zenith  of  his  skies  were  transitory,  no  calam 
ity  could  shake  his  faith,  no  defeat  dishearten 
\  him.     Time  did  not  make  him  sour,  he  grew 
I  mellow  with  the  passing  seasons.     His  last 
j  years  were  his  best.     Age  did  not  wither  him 
to  parchment,  as  it  did  Calhoun,  nor  fill  his 
soul  with  gall,  as  it  did  Webster's.     A  man 
with  such  a  disposition  loves  people.     Clay 
'loved  crowds,  he  was  a  mixer,  a  wonderful 
favorite,  a  household  god. 

His  home  was  a  museum  of  gifts.  People 
from  every  state  and  territory  sent  him  all 
imaginable  sorts  of  things.  In  the  National 
Hotel,  where  he  lived  in  Washington,  he  had 
a  cellar  wherein  the  landlord  stored  the  food 
that  was  sent  to  him.  There  was  constantly 
on  hand  a  plethora  of  wines,  fruits,  veget 
ables,  fowl,  game,  venison,  beef,  mutton, 
every  conceivable  edible  that  the  imagina 
tion  of  a  gastronomer  can  conjure  up.  These 
gifts  he  would  dispense  at  table,  discussing 
interestingly  the  traits  of  the  donor,  or  de- 


Henry  Clay 


287 


scribing  minul 

the  articles.  fOften,  in  the  hotel  dining  room, 
after  a  meal,the  people  would  move  their  chairs 
around  him  to  hear  him  discourse  upon  some 
favorite  theme.  When  he  began  to  speak, 
whether  in  the  parlor  or  on  the  platform,  in 
the  senate  or  in  the  open  air,  he  held  all  men 
in  the  hollow  of  his  hand.  His  was  preemi 
nently  the  oratorical  temperament. 

And  his  voice  lent  every  aid  to  his  tem 
perament.  His  voice  was  a  marvel.  If  we  \ 
are  to  believe  the  wonderful  stories  that  are 
told  of  its  marvelousvpower,  we  can  compare  it 
only  to  an  organ,  or  rather  to  a  full  .orchestra. 
'  ItTcould  range  all  the  octaves  and  command 
..every  pitch.  It  could  whisper  or  roar,  sing 
lullabys  or  shriek,  it  could  be  delicious, 
sweet,  insinuating,  or  wild,  terrible,  denun- 
ciating,  gentle  as  a  breeze,  or  fierce  as  a  tor 
nado.  Its  carrying  powers  were  as  remark 
able  as  its  quality.  He  loved  to  speak  out  of 
doors,  where  he  could  reach  the  multitudes 
by  the  thousands.  This  voice  Clay  had 
under  perfect  control.  He  was 
rhrmtmT 

With  sueh-^Tbody,  such  a  mind,  such  a 
temperament  and  such  a  voice,  his  powers 
of  speech  would  yet  have  failed  had  he  not 
known  how  to  use  them.  His  mastery  of  his 
talents  was  complete  and  absolute.  He  mar 
shalled  words  into  sonorous  sentences  with 
out  effort.  The  flowers  of  speech  sprung  into 
bloom  along  every  pathway  of  his  thought. 


288    Five  American  Politicians 

The  colorings  of  his  imagery  were  as  glorious 
and  natural  as  the  tintings  of  an  oriental 
fabric.  He  never  seemed  to  exhaust  the 
resources  of  his  eloquence.  After  his  greatest 
speeches,  those  on  the  tariff  of  1833,  the 
protest  of  1834,  the  sub-treasury  bill  of  1838, 
and  the  compromise  of  1850,  every  listener  felt 
that  were  it  necessary  the  orator  could  re 
double  his  efforts  and  not  drain  the  reserve 
power  of  his  talents. 

/I  His  eloquence  was  perfectly  natural.  It 
was  not  gleaned  from  books,  but  from  ex 
perience.  He  used  with  facility  every  wea 
pon  in  the  arsenal  of  speech.  He  could  be 
sarcastic  and  galling,  could  inveigh  and 
taunt,  could  be  joyous  and  solemn,  could  be 
serious  and  burlesque.  While  he  lacked 
Webster's  logic,  or  Chatham's  force,  he  ex 
celled  both  in  the  diversity  'of  his  attacks 
and  the  natural  grace  of  his  delivery,  be 
cause  he  was  an  orator  by  the  gift  of  nature, 
not  by  the  culture  of  man.  Thus  his  speech 
was  always  easy,  conversational,  graceful, 
dignified,  though  never  pompous,  as  that  of 
a  mere  stump  orator.  He  never  seemed  to 
try  to  form  sentences,  because  effort  was 
superfluous  to  his  talents. 

He  was  an  aetor,  and  spoke  with  his  whole 
.body.  He  was  impressive  even  when  he 
paused  in  his  speech  to  take  a  pinch  of  snuff 
or  use  his  handkerchief.  His  gestures  were 
always  manly,  as  was  his  sentiment  and  his 
vocabulary.  He  always  appealed  to  the 


Henry  Clay  289 


noble,  the  lofty,  never  to  the  prejudices  or  to 
vulgar  passions.  His  appeal  was  to  the 
greatness  of  man,  not  to  his  littleness.  I 

He  was  always  dramatic.  WhefTne  de 
nounced  Jackson  for  appointing  his  servile 
follower,  Amos  Kendall,  superintendent  of 
the  state  bank,  he  ended  a  withering  accusa 
tion  by  stretching  his  arms  full  length,  ris 
ing  on  tiptoe  and  with  a  terrible  frown  and 
a  voice  thundering  disgust  to  the  vaulted 
roof  of  the  old  senate  chamber,  and  yelling : 
"An  agent  was  sent  out  to  sound  the  local 
institutions  as  to  the  terms  on  which  they 
would  receive  deposits,  an  agent  was  sent 
out,"  and  the  voice  rose  to  a  shriek,  "and 
such  an  agent! " 

Some  time  later,  when  a  Virginia  D 
crat  had  been  named  by  the  President  as 
Ambassador  to  England,  one  Whig  vote  was 
necessary  to  confirm  the  appointment.  One 
of  the  leading  Whigs  was  rumored  to  have 
made  a  bargain  and  had  promised  to  deliver 
the  necessary  vote.  Clay  heard  of  this  on 
the  very  day  the  vote  was  to  be  taken.  Be 
fore  the  roll  call  he  arose  and  began  to  dis 
sect  the  life  of  the  proposed  ambassador. 
When  he  had  done  so,  he  pulled  himself  up 
to  his  full  height,  turned  full  on  the  suspect, 
transfixed  him  with  his  penetrating  eye,  and 
screamed:  "And  now,  what  Whig  would 
vote  for  this  man?  And  what  Whig  would 
promise  to  vote  for  this  man?  And  what 
Whig,  having  promised,  would  dare  to  keep 


290    Five  American  Politicians 

that  promise?"     The  renegade  Whig  slunk 
out  of  the  room,  his  promise  broken. 

"On  the  Monday  following  Calhoun's  death, 
a  vast  crowd  sought  the  senate  chamber. 
Webster,  Clay  and  Benton  were  to  speak. 
Clay  arose  and  spoke  quietly,  dwelling  large 
ly  upon  personal  reminiscences.  Gradually 
his  speech  became  more  animated.  Then 
turning  to  the  vacant  chair,  he  simply 
asked:  "When  shall  that  great  vacancy 
be  filled?"  The  manner  of  his  asking  left 
room  for  only  one  reply,  and  everyone 
within  hearing  of  that  marvelous  voice  in- 


In  his  last  great  debate,  on  the  comprom 
ise  of  1850,  he  showed  forth  his  adroitness  as 
a  floor  manager,  and  his  personal  magnetism. 
It  was  a  daily  fight,  he  was  constantly  har- 
rassed  by  Benton,  the  leader  of  the  opposi 
tion.  One  day  he  arose  to  make  a  motion, 
he  stated  it  in  his  sweetest  voice,  and  in  a 
tranquil  manner  asked  its  adoption.  Then 
he  paused,  looked  across  the  chamber  where 
Benton  sat,  glowering  and  unmoved.  Their 
eyes  met.  Clay  lifted  his  arm  and  shook 
his  finger  menacingly.  "  And  now  let  us  see," 
he  exclaimed  in  majestic  tones,  "whether 
the  pacification  of  this  country  is  longer  to 
be  hindered."  He  shook  his  broad  shoulders 
like  a  lion,  and  rose  to  magnificent  heights. 
The  sentences  poured  forth  as  in  former 
days.  But  his  strength  failed  him  and  he 
was  soon  compelled  to  call  back  his  ener- 


Henry  Clay  291 

gies.     "Ah,"  he  said,  "I  left  a  sick  room 
this  morning,  at  the  call  of  my  country." 

The  effect  of  such  an  unpremeditated, 
such  an  unlimited  stream  of  eloquence,  was 
perfectly  natural.  It  swept  every  one  on 
ward  in  its  resistless  torrent.  No  other  ora 
tor  in  American  history,  perhaps  not  in  the 
history  of  any  land,  spoke  to  such  crowds 
as  surged  around  the  platforms  where  Henry 
Clay  was  advertised  to  speak.  The  effect  of 
his  words  upon  the  multitudes  was  miracu 
lous.  They  wept,  they  shouted  for  joy,  they 
wrung  their  hands  in  grief,  they  tossed  their 
hats  into  the  air  in  deliriums  of  frenzy;  they 
would  listen  with  deathlike  stillness  to  his 
whispers,  and  would  respond  to  his  thunders 
with  yells  and  shrieks.  He  swayed  them  in 
unison  with  his  sentiments.  They  waxed 
wroth  with  his  temper,  they  wept  with  him, 
they  laughed  with  him,  they  grew  scornful 
as  he  grew  sarcastic,  and  enthusiastic  as  he 
rose  to  the  majesty  of  conviction.  They 
followed  him  from  town  to  town  reluctant 
to  say  farewell  to  the  enchanter.  CTHenry 
Clay  could  have  gathered  all  the  voters  of 
the  land  under  one  roof,  he  would  have  been 
unanimously  chosen  president  by  acclama 
tion.  \  And  this  was  not  the  power  of  words, 
nof  -m  logic,  nor  of  sentiment.  It  was  the 
power  of  personality,  the  subtle  influence  of 
the  actor-orator.  His  best  speeches  were  his 
impromptu  efforts.  It  is  a  matter  of  regret 
that  they  were  spoken  before  the  days  of 


292    Five  American  Politicians 

stenographers.     Such  of  his  speeches  as  are 

preserved  for  us,  do  not  reveal  the  power 

that  was  pent  up  in  thier  spoken  sentences. 

jThe  dynamics  of  Clay's  oratory  lay  in  his 

x*^  delivery,  in  his  acting.     Wherever  his  voice 

was  heard  there  was  rapture  and  delight. 

Anct^these  powers  shone  resplendent 
amidst  a  galaxy  of  brilliant  contemporaries. 
Think  of  Clay's  co-workers !  There  were  the 
polished  orators  Preston,  Corwin,  Everett, 
Hayne  and  Prentiss ;  there  were  the  debaters 
Wright,  Douglas,  Berrien;  there  were  the 
renowned  advocates  Pinkney,  West  and 
Choate;  there  were  the  famous  statesmen 
Adams,  Benton  and  Cass.  Among  those 
giants  he  moved.  To  them  he  was  a  leader. 

There  were  two  other  men  then  active 
upon  the  stage  of  public  life  whose  talents 
linked  them  to  Clay  in  an  immortal  trinity 
of  genius,  Webster  and  Calhoun.  We  cannot 
reflect  upon  that  stirring  middle  period  of 
our  history  that  brought  forth  nationalism 
out  of  the  throes  of  sectional  violence,  with 
out  having  these  three  leaders  constantly 
before  our  mind.  How  diverse  were  their 
talents,  yet  how  preeminent;  how  varied 
their  convictions,  yet  how  sincere.  Around 
this  trinity  of  leaders  clustered  the  other  men 
of  the  time  like  satellites  around  a  sun.  In 
them  were  incarnate  the  three  ruling  prin 
ciples  that  sought  victory  at  the  people's 
tribunes.  Calhoun,  the  incarnation  of  state- 
rights;  Webster,  the  incarnation  of  the 


Henry  Clay 293 

Union,  "one  and  inseparable";  Clay,  the 
incarnation  of  the  Union,  "pacified  and  rec 
onciled/'  Clay  was  the  mediator  between 
Calhoun  and  Webster,  between  New  Eng 
land  and  South  Carolina.  Calhoun  was  dis 
tinguished  for  his  logic,  Webs  terjoj:  his  argu 
ments,  (o|;^1^  Jiisi^Io'quence Jf  Calhoun 
planned  disunion "  by  a  16gic"so  insinuating, 
so  subtle,  that  it  captured  the  learned  as  well 
as  the  unlearned.  Webster  defended  the 
Union  with  constitutional  arguments,  so 
true,  so  lofty,  and  so  majestic  that  they  will 
be  a  never  failing  source  of  patriotism  for 
all  time.  \  Clay  pleaded  for  the  Union  with 
such  moderation  and  such  glowing  eloquence 
that  his  compromises  were  adopted,  and  he 
was  hailed  as  the  savior  of  the  Union.  Cal 
houn  discerned  in  slavery  no  wrong  but  a 
positive  good;  Webster  perceived  in  slavery 
a  constitutional  menace;  Clay  saw  in  slav 
ery  an  institutional  danger.  The  ultimate 
goal  of  Calhoun's  logic  was  secession.  Had 
Webster  carried  his  constitutional  argument 
to  its  final  conclusion,  he  would  have  been 
in  accord  with  Chase  and  Seward,  ready  to 
defend  the  Union  and  the  constitution  with  the 
force  of  arms.  To  Clay,  there  was  only  one 
ultimate  goal,  peace,  compromise,  and  by  its 
very  nature,  that  goal  could  never  be  ulti 
mate.  Calhoun  died  at  his  post,  before  the 
last  compromise  was  passed.  Within  a  dec 
ade,  his  state  led  the  ranks  of  secession,  put 
ting  to  the  test  of  war  the  philosophy  of 


294    Five  American  Politicians 

her   greatest   son.     Two    years   later   Clay 

joined  his  great  antagonist.     He  saw  his 

compromise  adopted  by  the  two  great  parties 

the  very  summer  of  his  death.     His  closing 

f  eyes  might  have  read  the  signs  of  national 

/  dissolution,  but  he  died  in  the  faith  that  his 

1  compromise  was  final.     Four  months  later 

Webster  followed  his   great   compeer;  the 

Union  he  had  so  profoundly  loved  seemed 

secure,  but  his  heart  was  heavy  with  the 

burden  of  defeat,  and  his  mind  filled  with 

the  foreboding  of  disunion. 

The  Union  is  the  answer  to  this  trinity  of 
logic,  argument  and  eloquence.  To  the  logic 
of  Calhoun  it  answers,  the  tyholp-is  greater 
than  a  part;  the  argumenT"of  Webster 
it  affirms  with  an  amended  constitution;  to 
the  eloquence  of  Clay  it  responds,  while  the 
spirit  of  compromise  is  beautiful  and  lovely, 
there  can  be  no  enduring  conciliation  be 
tween  right  and  wrong. 


STEPHEN  A.  DOUGLAS 

DEFENDER  OF  STATE'S  RIGHTS  AND  OF 
NATIONALISM 


STEPHEN  A.  DOUGLAS 

DEFENDER  OF   STATE'S  RIGHTS  AND 
OF  NATIONALISM 


F^OLITICAL  philosophy  does  not  make 
a  nation  until  it  is  written  in  living 
letters  and  recorded  in  the  book  of 
experience.  The  theory  of  a  union  of  inde 
pendent  states  bound  by  an  indissoluble 
bond  to  a  national  government  was  unques 
tionably  the  thought  of  a  majority  of  the 
constitutional  fathers.  Had  economic  and 
social  conditions  been  uniform  in  every  por 
tion  of  our  domain  there  would  probably 
have  been  no  necessity  for  a  severe  struggle 
in  working  out  the  practical  realization  of 
this  theory.  But,  unfortunately,  this  uni 
formity  did  not  exist.  One  part  of  the  na 
tion  held  that  the  component  units  of  the 
nation  were  so  utterly  free  that  they  could 
do  as  they  chose ;  another  part  held  that  the 
states  were  free  in  municipal  affairs,  but 
unfree  in  national  affairs.  One  section  be 
lieved  that  state  rights  extended  even  into 
the  realm  of  state  anarchy,  where  every 
commonwealth  could  break  away  from  every 
other  and  establish  itself  in  isolation;  the 
other  section  believed  that  self-destruction 
was  not  one  of  the  liberties  contemplated 


298    Five  American  Politicians 

by  the  voluntary  union  of  the  original  thir 
teen  states.  One  school  of  political  phil 
osophy  assumed  that  the  constitution  was  a 
mere  transitory  compact;  the  opposing 
school  affirmed  that  the  constitution  was  a 
solemn  and  eternal  obligation.  One  coterie 
of  statesmen  maintained  that  we  are  an  ag 
gregation  of  independent  units;  the  other 
maintained  that  we  are  a  nation  of  co-equal 
commonwealths.  The  real  issue  was,  Are 
we  a  confederation  or  a  nation?  Does  an 
eternal  and  necessary  gravitation  unite  these 
states  into  a  galaxy  of  stars,  or  does  chance 
decree  that  we  are  only  a  temporary  group  of 
comets,  thrown  into  company  by  coincidence? 

One  hundred  years  were  necessary  to  solve 
the  question.  Every  conceivable  method 
of  adjustment  between  the  diverse  elements 
was  attempted.  The  great  compromises 
all  failed,  because  the  ultimate  basis  of  the 
question  was  a  moral  Basis,  and  there  can  be 
no  lasting  cement  between  right  and  wrong. 
The  final  struggle  was  made  inevitable. 
After  compromise,  war.  But  before  the 
civil  war  was  actually  begun,  there  took 
place  that  fierce,  final  and  frantic  attempt  of 
slavery  to  fasten  itself  upon  the  territories. 
In  "squatter  sovereignty"  you  behold  the 
ultimate  logic  of  state  rights.  And  Stephen 
A.  Douglas  was  the  brilliant  champion  of 
this  territorial  home  rule. 

Douglas  was  born  in  Brandon,  Vermont, 
on  the  23rd  day  of  April.  1813.  His  father 


Stephen  A.  Douglas          299 

was  a  skilful  physician,  and  his  mother  a 
woman  of  unusual  mental  prowess.  The 
father  died  when  Stephen  was  only  two 
months  old.  A  bachelor  brother  of  the 
widow  provided  a  home  for  them.  Stephen 
attended  the  village  school  and  grewT  into  a 
reckless  little  dare-devil,  who  would  swim  the 
mill-pond  to  spite  his  teacher  and  pommel 
his  playmates  for  sheer  love  of  combat.  He 
was  a  bright  boy  with  his  books,  and  wished 
to  go  to  college.  But  his  uncle  was  "close," 
and  instead  of  going  to  college  Stephen,  at  the 
age  of  fifteen,  was  apprenticed  to  a  cabinet 
maker  in  Middlebury.  His  master  was  a 
good-natured  deacon,  who  allowed  the  ap 
prentice  boy  time  to  read  his  favorite  books, 
the  lives  of  Napoleon  and  of  Caesar  and  of 
Alexander,  heroes  whose  traditions  he  wove 
into  every  phase  of  his  own  career.  In  truth 
he  was  the  Little  Napoleon  of  the  village. 
He  led  the  young  people  in  combat  and  de 
bate.  The  prophecy  of  his  babyhood  that 
he  would  grow  into  a  great  giant  remained 
unfulfilled.  He  became  the  "Little  Giant" 
instead,  scarcely  five  feet  in  height,  and 
while  he  weighed,  tradition  says,  14  pounds 
when  he  was  born,  he  could  scarcely  summon 
140  pounds  when  he  developed  into  man 
hood.  Nor  was  his  health  robust.  Through 
out  his  early  life  he  was  compelled  to  suffer 
bodily  discomforts.  But  Stephen  in  spite  of 
his  pygmy  stature  and  frail  health  was  re 
markably  muscular  and  fond  of  a  fight.  One 


300    Five  American  Politicians 

night,  on  his  way  home  from  some  social 
festivity,  he  whipped  every  youth  in  the 
village  because  of  some  insult  offered  his 
sweetheart.  The  actions  of  the  man  were 
foretold  by  the  predilections  of  the  boy. 
His  apprenticeship  lasted  only  two  years; 
it  was  cut  short  by  his  illness.  He  returned 
to  Brandon  and  studied  in  the  local  academy 
for  one  year. 

About  this  time  his  mother  married  a 
lawyer  of  some  means  and  Stephen  was  sent 
to  the  Canandaigua  Academy,  in  New  York, 
a  school  then  famous  throughout  that  sec 
tion  of  the  country.  Here  he  studied  three 
years  with  great  zeal  and  success.  The 
classics  and  forensics  especially  called  forth 
his  enthusiasm  and  he  became  the  leader  in 
all  debates  and  speaking  contests.  During 
his  leisure  moments  he  read  law. 

In  June,  1833,  he  journeyed  to  the  new 
west  in  quest  of  health  and  fortune.  When 
he  reached  Cleveland,  Ohio,  his  health  suc 
cumbed  completely  to  the  prevalent  malaria. 
Acting  on  the  advice  of  his  physician  he 
journeyed  farther,  immediately  on  his  re 
covery.  But  he  fared  little  better  in  Cin 
cinnati,  Louisville  and  St.  Louis.  He  start 
ed  northward  from  St.  Louis  for  Chicago, 
but  when  he  arrived  at  Jacksonville,  111., 
he  found  his  funds  reduced  to  thirty-seven 
cents.  He  was  compelled  to  sell  some  of  his 
books  for  bread,  and  to  look  for  work  in 
stead  of  await  clients.  He  heard  that  in 


Stephen  A.  Douglas          301 

the  little  village  of  Winchester,  a  few  miles 
distant  from  Jacksonville,  there  was  need 
of  a  school,  and  so  thither  he  went,  early  in 
November,  1833.  Good  fortune  awaited 
him  in  this  obscure  frontier  hamlet.  A 
country  auctioneer  who  was  plying  his  voca 
tion  on  the  village  green,  caught  sight  of 
young  Douglas  and  beckoned  him.  "Can 
you  figure  at  $2.00  a  day?  "  he  asked.  "  And 
board!"  added  the  bankrupt.  The  bargain 
was  struck  and  Douglas  became  the  clerk  of 
the  auctioneer.  This  position  served  as  a 
natural  introduction  for  the  prospective 
schoolmaster.  The  auction  lasted  three  days 
and  by  that  time  the  young  man  had  won 
his  way  into  the  hearts  of  the  villagers  by 
his  ready  wit,  his  vigorous  defense  of  Presi 
dent  Jackson,  then  the  idol  of  the  frontiers 
man,  and  his  ability  at  figures.  He  organ 
ized  a  school  in  the  village  and  it  proved  as 
popular  as  its  master.  It  was  in  the  days 
of  "  boarding  around/'  and  Douglas  dis 
played  a  remarkable  faculty  for  ingratiating 
himself  into  the  hearts  of  his  patrons. 

That  winter  he  was  admitted  to  the  bar 
and  the  following  year  he  was  elected  prose 
cuting  attorney.  His  home  county,  Morgan 
county,  was  a  Whig  stronghold,  and  the 
young  politician  now  addressed  himself  to 
the  task  of  making  it  Democratic.  He  set 
out  to  organize  every  township,  and  knit 
these  local  organizations  into  a  firm  county 
machine.  The  custom  had  been  to  allow 


302    Five  American  Politicians 

several  candidates  in  each  party  to  stand 
for  the  various  offices.  Indeed,  whoever 
wanted  to  run  for  office  could  do  so  without 
any  particular  party  sanction.  This  loose, 
haphazard  method  Douglas  discarded,  and 
in  its  place  he  put  his  compact,  united  or 
ganization,  that  chose  the  candidates  and 
directed  the  campaign.  This  vigorous  party 
discipline  wrested  victory  from  the  Whigs, 
Douglas  himself  being  among  the  victors, 
the  choice  of  his  neighbors  as  their  represent 
ative  in  the  legislature. 

Four  months  later  President  Van  Buren 
appointed  Douglas  register  of  the  land  office 
at  Springfield,  and  from  the  vantage  ground 
of  the  state  capital,  with  the  prestige  of  vic 
tory  and  federal  endorsement,  he  organized 
every  congressional  district  and  county  in  the 
state  upon  the  plan  of  the  Morgan  County 
Democracy.  This  became  the  "Douglas  Ma 
chine,"  that  served  as  the  practical  basis  of 
the  political  advancement  of  its  creator. 

In  1837  he  secured  the  Democratic  nomi 
nation  for  congress  in  the  northern  district 
of  his  state.  He  was  not  yet  25  years  old, 
but  he  reached  the  requisite  age  before  elec 
tion  day.  There  were  36,000  votes  cast.  It 
is  probable  that  Douglas  had  a  majority,  but 
twenty  ballots  were  thrown  out  by  the  can 
vassers  because  his  name  was  misspelled, 
and  his  Whig  opponent,  John  T.  Stuart,  a 
law  partner  of  Abraham  Lincoln,  was  de 
clared  elected  by  a  majority  of  five  votes. 


Stephen  A.  Douglas          3°3 

For  three  years  Douglas  devoted  himself 
to  his  law  practice.  He  became  a  successful 
criminal  lawyer,  winning  the  juries  and  free 
ing  the  culprits  with  such  uniformity  that 
his  talents  almost  became  a  menace  to  so 
ciety. 

In  1840  he  became  secretary  of  state,  and 
a  year  later  he  was  appointed  to  the  supreme 
bench  of  Illinois.  This  position  he  held  for 
three  years,  when  he  was  elected  to  congress 
for  three  successive  terms.  His  first  ma 
jority  was  400,  his  second  1900,  and  his  third 
3000.  In  1847,  before  the  expiration  of  his 
third  term,  he  was  elected  United  States 
senator,  which  position  he  held  until  his  death. 

The  fourteen  years  that  intervened  be 
tween  his  advent  in  Illinois  and  his  entrance 
into  the  United  States  senate  served  to  ma 
ture  the  political  methods  of  Douglas,  to 
gether  with  his  political  theories,  his  ambi 
tions  a/nd  his  p^r^rmlity  ~^ 

Of  his  political  methods,  it  must  be  said 
that  he  united  the  wiles  of  a  machine  politi 
cian  with  the  ardent  temperament  of  a  good 
fellow  and  the  natural  talents  of  a  successful 
public  speaker.  This  blending  makes  a  for 
midable  politician.  For  when  talent  lags, 
and  good  fellowship  sickens,  then  there  re 
mains  the  inexorable,  iron  organization. 
Douglas  remains  one  of  the  great  political 
organizers  of  our  history. 

His  political  theories  were  absorbed  from 
Andrew  Jackson.  He  was  first  of  all  a  Demo- 


304    Five  American  Politicians 

crat  according  to  the  pure  etymology  of  that 
word.  He  believed  in  diffusing  govern 
mental  power  among  the  people,  the  great 
masses,  not  in  concentrating  it  within  a 
,  the  aristocrats,  the  rich,  or  the  favored. 
A  centralized  national  government  was  still 
a  bogey-man  in  American  politics.  Then  he 
was  a  western  Democrat,  a  rampant  believer 
in  the  power  of  the  people  to  govern  them 
selves.  He  partook  freely  of  the  frontier 
doctrine  that  the  nation  should  grow  and 
spread  itself  over  this  vast  continent,  from 
ocean  to  ocean.  On  the  question  of  internal 
improvements  he  had  no  quarrel  with  the 
Whigs.  Tariff  troubled  him  but  little  and 
slavery  had  scarcely  become  an  issue  when 
he  essayed  into  national  politics.  Alto 
gether,  Douglas's  political  theories  were 
more  in  the  nature  of  vague  generalities 
than  of  precise  philosophy.  But  he  had  one 
unalterable  conviction:  the  absolute  neces 
sity  of  local  self-government,  of  state  auton 
omy  under  the  federal  government.  An  all- 
sufficient,  faithful,  rough,  true-hearted,  fron 
tier  democracy  found  in  Douglas  a  perfect 
leader. 

Just  when  Douglas  became  conscious  of 
his  consuming  ambition  to  become  President 
is  not  apparent.  The  desire  probably  grad 
ually  came  upon  him,  as  he  rose,  in  marvel 
ous  rapidity  from  one  position  of  political 
eminence  to  another.  But  long  before  his 
first  term  in  the  senate  expired  he  was  mas- 


Stephen  A.  Douglas          3°5 

tered  by  this  ambition.  To  its  overlordship  — - 
he  was  willing  to  submit  everything  except 
honor__and  convicjjjQn.  It  is  commonly  be 
lieved  thatlie^even  surrendered  principle  and 
integrity  in  his  Kansas-Nebraska  struggle. 
Unfortunately,  in  those  fateful  days,  he  did 
dally  with  compromise  and  coquette  with 
the  slavery  extensionists.  But  in  the  light 
of  his  subsequent  career,  his  unswerving 
consistency  in  adhering  to  the  principles  of 
popular  sovereignty  and  his  loyalty  to  the 
Union,  let  us  not  accuse  him  of  prostituting 
principle  to  ambition. j 

His  nature  abounded  in  the  personal  traits 
that  made  the  successful  frontiers  politician, 
and  the  early  circuit  of  the  frontier  brought 
out  these  traits  in  richest  profusion.  It  was 
the  okien  time  of  "Merrie  Illinois/'  when 
lawyers  on  horseback  followed  the  circuit 
judges  from  town  to  town.  XHospitality  and 
familiarity  were  universal.  /Kindness  aboun- 
ed  with  the  rough  backwoods  humor  and 
banter  of  travel  and  tavern.  Feats  of  phys 
ic  aljskill  were  esteemed _  above |  logic  anjfl  song 
aflxT  story"  wereT  more,  desired  ifhTnjjhilos- 
opliy '.' 

The  traditions  of  those  days  assure  us 
that  Douglas  amply  fulfilled  all  these  require 
ments.  His  physical  courage  and  strength 
were  as  unusual  as  his  stature.  When  on  the 
bench,  he  tried  the  case  of  one  Joe  Smith,  a 
notorious  murderer.  A  wild  mob  gathered 

in  the  jail-yard,  erected  a  gibbet,  and  pressed 
20 


306    Five  American  Politicians 

into  the  court  room  to  lay  their  unholy  hands 
upon  the  prisoner  in  the  box.  The  sheriff 
shrank  from  his  post  when  he  saw  the  de 
termined  avengers.  But  judge  Douglas  was 
equal  to  the  occasion.  "Sheriff,  clear  the 
court  room ! "  he  yelled.  The  cowardly  sher 
iff  hesitated.  The  judge  shouted:  "Mr. 
Harris,  I  appoint  you  sheriff.  Appoint  your 
deputies  and  clear  this  court  room  right 
now!"  Harris  was  a  stalwart  Kentuckian. 
The  peremptory  and  decisive  action  of  the 
judge  cowed  the  mob  and  the  room  was 
cleared  without  a  struggle.  The  judge  had 
no  legal  right  to  appoint  a  sheriff,  but  Doug 
las  never  allowed  a  technicality  or  a  cere 
mony  to  stand  in  the  way  of  action  or  ne- 
^Mcessity. 

-\V  His  muscular  strength  was  phenomenal. 
The  pygmy,  who  was  often  held  upon  the 
knees  of  his  clients  or  constituents,  as  they 
familiarly  consul  ted  with  him,  was  as  powerful 
as  an  ox.  One  day  when  boarding  a  Missis 
sippi  flatboat  he  was  annoyed  by  a  great, 
brawling,  rawboned  braggart.  "Who  are 
you,  my  big  chicken?"  Douglas  asked.  "I 
am  a  high  pressure  steamer,"  the  bully  an 
swered.  "And  I  am  a  snag,"  said  the 
judge  as  he  picked  up  the  fellow  and 
pitched  him  into  the  mud. 

If  he  abounded  in  that  physical  prowess 
that  delighted  the  early  settlers  he  much 
more  abounded  in  the  personal  traits  that 
won  their  affection  and  compelled  their 


Stephen  A.  Douglas          307 

admiration.  He  was  approachable  to  all. 
His  familiarity  robbed  him  of  dignity.  He 
was  kind  to  a  fault,  a  profuse  story  teller, 
adroit  at  cards,  responsive  to  appeal,  had  a 
good  memory  for  names,  was  not  overbur 
dened  with  egotism  in  its  obtrusive  form, 
and  his  ever  ready  tongue  won  him  always 
the  attention  of  the  throng.  He  had  a  won 
derfully  winning  personality,  and  few  could 
escape  the  captivating  magnetism  of  his 
presence. 

•  /In  spite  of  his  diminutive  stature,  he  was 
handsome  in  appearance.  His  head  was 
massive  and  covered  with  a  magnificent 
shock  of  jet  black  hair,  which  he  tossed  back 
when  speaking,  with  a  kingly  gesture.  His 
features  were  large  and  well  proportioned. 
His  eyes  were  restless,  nothing  escaped  their 
vigilance  as  they  flitted  about  from  object 
to  object,  and  when  they  fixed  their  gaze 
they  were  piercing.  His  voice  was  superbly 
adapted  to  the  needs  of  outdoor  speaking. 
When  on  the  platform,  or  in  the  court  room, 
his  manner  was  bold  and  challenging.  He 
never  evaded  a  conflict.  It  was  this  leonine 
attitude,  together  with  his  tremendous 
powers  of  speech  and  his  stunted  height, 
that  christened  him  early  in  his  career  as 

N^The  Little  Giant." 

^-Intellectually  he  was  superficial.  He  was 
not  a  scholar.  Neither  was  he  a  mere  rhe 
torician.  But  he  had  a  flow  of  speech,  un 
adorned  and  unpretentious,  captivating  only 


308    Five  American  Politicians 

in  its  astounding,  never-failing  volume,  that 
proved  a  ready  substitute  for  logic  and  pro 
fundity. 

In  temperament  Douglas  was  imperious, 
self-willed  and  unbending.  He  was  suscep 
tible  to  flattery,  coveted  glory,  and  sought 
fame.  These  lefcs  fortunate  traits  he  was 
capable  of  concealing  underneath  his  talents 
for  good  fellowship.  But  in  his  relentless 
pursuit  for  the  prize  of  his  calling  they  bore 
/  a  supreme  part.  For  the  reader  must  ever 
bear  in  mind  that  Douglas  was  primarily  a 
j  politician.  He  could  never  forget  that  he 
needed  votes.  He  courted  big  majorities. 
He  played  for  votes  as  a  skilled  angler  plays 
for  fish. 

This  strong-willed,  courageous,  ambitious, 
kind-souled,  voluble,  hand-shaking  politi 
cian  had  one  great  gift,  the  gift  of 
debate ;  and  he  was  entirely  possessed  of 
the  homely  habit  of  constant  industry. 
This  industry  perfected  his  gift  into  genius, 
and  lifted  him  into  national  leadership 
in  the  hour  of  the  nation's  great  peril.  It 
is  a  strange  anomaly  of  politics  that  the 
place  of  Henry  Clay,  the  Great  Pacificator, 
the  founder  and  leader  of  the  Whig  party, 
was  taken  by  Stephen  A.  Douglas,  the 
Little  Giant  of  the  States  Rights  Cause, 
the  leader  of  the  Democratic  party.  Such 
can  be  the  paradox  of  politics,  for  in  logic 
and  in  philosophy,  if  not  in  name  and  in 
party  jargon,  Douglas  was  the  lawful  sue- 


Stephen  A.  Douglas          309 

cessor  of  Clay,  rather  than  of  Calhoun.  For 
Calhoun's  theory  of  state  rights  terminated 
in  nullification.  Douglas's  theory  of  popu 
lar  sovereignty  terminated  in  municipal  au 
tonomy,  but  an  autonomy  held  together 
under  the  unifying  web  of  nationalism. 
While  Douglas  carried  state  rights  into 
the  territories,  he  never  adhered  to  the 
opinion  that  a  territory  or  a  state  could  leave 
the  Union.  . 

It  is  necessary  to  understand  this  great 
difference   between   the   fatal   state   rights 
views  of  Calhoun  and  the  state  rights  views 
of  Douglas,  if  we  are  to  gain  a  true  concep 
tion  of  his  life  and  of  the  stupendous  political 
movements  in  which  he  was  a  leader.     Cal 
houn  carried  state's  rights  to  the  brink  of 
disunion,  and  was  willing  to  push  his  South 
Carolina  into  the  abyss.     Douglas  carriecT"\ 
state  rights  to  the  issue  of   war,  but  was 
unwilling  to  allow  one  state  or  territory  to/ 
leave  the  Union.     Calhounjoyedjbi^  state" 
more  than  his  nation^     Uouglas  loved  his"""*" 
nation  more  than  his  theory,  his  state,  or    ]) 
his  ambition. 

When  he  entered  the  house  of  repre 
sentatives  in  1843  he  had  paid  little  atten 
tion  to  the  slavery  issue.  His  activities  had 
been  confined  to  his  state.  He  was  a  Jack 
son  Democrat  of  the  most  radical  species, 
accepting  without  doubt  or  question  every 
utterance  of  Jackson  as  dogma  and  every 
act  as  justified.  His  first  notable  achieve- 


3io    Five  American  Politicians 

ment  in  congress  was  his  speech  in  defense 
of  Jackson,  and  in  favor  of  the  bill  refunding 
the  fine  Judge  Hall  had  imposed  upon  the 
General  in  1814  for  declaring  martial  law  in 
New  Orleans.  Jackson  cherished  this  speech 
and  wrote  upon  the  margin  of  the  copy  he 
filed  away  with  his  papers:  "This  speech 
constitutes  my  defense.  I  lay  it  aside  as  an 
inheritance  for  my  grandchildren/'  And 
when  the  following  year  Douglas  called  at 
"  The  Hermitage  "  the  Sage  bade  him  double 
welcome  and  quite  overwhelmed  him  with 
kindness. 

During  his  tenure  in  the  house,  Douglas 
developed    into    a    remarkable    committee 
worker  and  floor  leader.     He  displayed  that 
/capacity  for  turning  from  politics  to  state- 
/  craft,   changing   from  politician   to  states- 
/  man,  that  has  characterized  many  of  our 
\great  public  men.     His  labors  were  as  ardent 
as  they  were  unceasing,  and  as  painstaking 
as  they  were  brilliant.     He  led  the  Demo 
crats  in  those  important  movements,  the 
annexation  of  Texas,  the  war  with  Mexico, 
the  "Conquest  of  Oregon." 

He  entered  the  senate  with  the  prestige 
of  a  party  chieftain.  Every  weapon  in  the 
arsenal  of  debate  he  had  perfected  by  usage, 
and  every  strategy  in  the  art  of  political 
warfare  he  had  mastered  by  experience.  He 
was  only  34  years  old,  brilliant,  valiant,  rest 
less,  liberal,  the  idol  of  the  young,  the  pet  of 
the  old.  It  is  probable  that  the  desire  to 


Stephen  A.  Douglas          311 

become  President  began  to  infuse  itself  into 
his  veins  when  he  entered  the  senate  and 
took  his  seat  with  the  great  men  of  the  land. 
We  will  not  do  his  political  sagacity  injus 
tice  and  say  that  he  did  not  shape  his  career 
as  senator  so  as  to  avoid  the  Scylla  of  slavery 
and  the  Charybdis  of  abolitionism.  Nor  is 
it  necessary  to  subscribe  to  the  view  com 
monly  held  that  he  abandoned  honest  con 
victions  and  did  violence  to  his  conscience 
when  he  announced  his  theory  of  popular 
sovereignty  and  thrust  "Bleeding  Kansas" 
into  the  lurid  foreground  of  secession  and 
rebellion.  For,  if  we  trace  with  care  his—-^ 
utterances  upon  the  question  of  territorial 
rights  and  slavery,  from  the  debate  on  the  j 
Wilmot  Proviso,  to  the  day  of  his  death,  we  I 
will  find  a  consistent  adhesion  to  the  prin 
ciple  of  territorial  home  rule. 

These  principles  were  first  foreshadowed  } 
in  his  speeches  opposing  the  adoption  of  the^x 
Wilmot  Proviso.  He  contended  that  in  the 
organizing  of  territorial  governments  the 
question  of  slavery  should  not  be  broached 
at  all.  Slavery  was  a  purely  domestic  insti 
tution,  and  it  was  no  concern  of  congress 
whether  or  not  it  were  allowed  in  a  state  or 
territory.  The  people  of  every  territory 
must  decide  that  question  for  themselves. 
This  was  his  attitude  in  the  debate  on  the 
Wilmot  Proviso.  He  never  relinquished 
this  opinion.  He  did  expand  it  in  1854,  he 
elaborated  it,  and  perfected  it  into  a  consist- 


312    Five  American  Politicians 

ent  and  well-wrought  political  theory,  but 
he  never  abandoned  it.  And  the  concrete 
upon  which  he  builded  the  structure  of  this 
theory  of  state  autonomy  was  the  proposi 
tion  that  slavery  was  a  purely  domestic  insti 
tution. 

Douglas  was  made  chairman  of  the  senate 
committee  on  territories.  This  important 
position  made  him  the  leader  in  the  move 
ment  to  organize  territorial  governments  in 
the  domains  acquired  through  the  Mexican 
war.  This  brings  us  to  the  memorable  year 
1850,  when  California  asked  admission  to 
the  Union,  when  the  north  determined  that 
slavery  should  not  infest  those  virgin  lands, 
and  the  south  threatened  disunion  if  the 
barriers  surrounding  the  new  territories  were 
made  impassable  to  slavery.  It  was  Douglas 
who  prepared  the  various  bills,  in  his  com 
mittee,  that  were  introduced  to  meet  the 
demands  of  both  contestants,  and  it  was 
Douglas  who  suggested  to  Clay  the  fortun 
ate  compromise  that  bears  the  name  of  the 
great  Kentuckian. 

In  the  original  bill,  Douglas  avoided  all 
reference  to  slavery.  When  the  anti-slavery 
senators  proposed  their  various  amend 
ments,  he  opposed  them.  The  final  bill,  as 
is  well  known,  provided  for  the  restriction  of 
slavery. 

Douglas  in  his  speech  of  June  3rd,  clearly 
set  forth  his  views :  "  In  respect  to  African 
slavery,  the  position  that  I  have  ever  taken 


Stephen  A.  Douglas          313 

has  been,  that  this  and  all  other  questions 
relating  to  the  domestic  affairs  and  domestic 
policy  of  the  territories  ought  to  be  left  to 
the  decision  of  the  people  themselves.  I 
would  therefore  have  much  preferred  that 
the  bill  should  have  remained  as  it  was  re 
ported  from  the  committee  on  territories, 
with  no  provision  on  the  subject  of  slavery. 

"And,  sir,  is  an  institution  to  be  fixed 
upon  a  people  in  opposition  to  their  unani 
mous  opinion?  I,  for  one,  think  that  such 
ought  not  to  be  the  case.  I  desire  no  provi 
sion  whatever  in  respect  to  slavery  in  the  ter 
ritories  .  I  wish  to  leave  the  people  of  the  ter 
ritories  free  to  enactsuchlaws  as  they  please." 

The  legislature  of  Illinois  had  instructed 
him  to  vote  for  an  explicit  prohibition  of 
slavery  in  all  the  territories.  The  Aboli 
tionists  of  the  state  knew  the  views  that  he 
held  and  believed  that  his  uncompromising 
nature  would  rather  resign  than  yield  to 
pressure.  But  Douglas  did  not  resign. 
When  the  roll  was  called  on  the  amendment 
prohibiting  slavery,  he  arose  and  explained 
to  the  senate  that  he  was  now  going  to  cast 
the  vote  of  his  constituents,  not  his  own  vote; 
that  he  did  so  because  he  knew  the  amend 
ment  would  be  lost  anyway;  that  he  did  not 
deem  the  friction  between  himself  and  his 
constituents  of  a  grave  enough  nature  to 
demand  his  resignation.  So  he  voted  "  aye." 
Thus  the  politician  found  a  way  to  placate 
both  his  conscience  and  his  constituents. 


314    Five  American  Politicians 

On  his  return  to  Chicago,  he  found  the 
compromise  very  unpopular  and  himself  the 
denounced  and  hated  Judas  Iscariot,  the 
betrayer,  of  the  free  state  of  Illinois.  The 
Abolitionists  had  organized  to  defy  the  fu 
gitive  slave  law.  They  controlled  pulpit 
and  press,  they  placarded  the  city,  they  in 
duced  the  city  council  to  pass  an  ordinance 
relieving  all  citizens  and  officers  and  the 
police  from  the  binding  force  of  these  laws,  on 
the  ground  that  they  were  venal  and  in 
human.  On  the  evening  following  this  radi 
cal  action  of  the  council,  a  great  mass  meet 
ing  was  held.  It  boisterously  endorsed  the 
revolutionary  action  of  the  city  council,  and 
amid  deafening  cheers  resolutions  were 
passed  commending  violent  resistance  to  the 
Federal  law,  and  denouncing  in  bitterest 
terms  the  Illinois  statesmen  who  had  voted 
for  the  compromise. 

Douglas  was  the  only  member  of  the 
Illinois  delegation  then  in  Chicago.  He  at 
tended  the  meeting,  and  after  the  passage  of 
the  resolutions  asked  to  be  heard.  Amidst 
the  profoundest  silence  he  announced  that 
on  the  following  evening  he  would  address 
the  citizens  of  Chicago  on  the  compromise 
and  would  answer  every  objection  that  had 
been  raised  against  it.  Jeers  and  hisses  were 
the  echo  of  his  challenge.  But  a  tremendous 
throng  gathered  the  following  night  to  hear 
his  defense.  And  Douglas  was  their  com 
plete  master.  One  by  one  he  met  the  ob- 


Stephen  A.  Douglas          315 

jections  raised  by  the  Abolitionists;  he  an 
swered  the  questions  asked  by  his  hearers; 
he  defended  the  theory  of  state  rights  and 
the  philosophy  of  compromise;  he  pleaded 
the  supremacy  of  law  and  the  absolute  ne 
cessity  of  abiding  by  its  mandates.  The 
following  extract  from  his  speech  is  very  im 
portant  for  our  purpose,  because  it  reveals 
clearly  that  he  believed  the  compromise  was 
based  upon  his  own  principle  of  home  rule. 
He  thus  explained  his  attitude:  "These 
measures  are  predicated  on  the  great  funda 
mental  principle  that  every  people  ought  to 
possess  the  right  of  forming  and  regulating 
their  own  internal  concerns  and  domestic 
institutions  in  their  own  way.  If  those  who 
emigrate  to  the  territories  have  the  requisite 
intelligence  and  honesty  to  enact  laws  for 
the  government  of  white  men  I  know  of  no 
reason  why  they  should  not  be  competent 
to  legislate  for  the  negro.  If  they  are  suffi 
ciently  enlightened  to  make  laws  for  the  pro 
tection  of  life,  liberty  and  property,  of  mor 
als  and  education,  to  determine  the  relation 
of  husband  and  wife,  of  parent  and  child, 
I  am  not  aware  that  it  requires  any  higher 
degree  of  civilization  that  regulates  the 
affairs  of  master  and  servant.  My  votes 
and  acts  have  been  in  accordance  with  this 
view." 

He  closed  his  speech  by  offering  a  series 
of  resolutions  upholding  the  federal  law  and 
repudiating  the  action  of  the  city  council. 


316    Five  American  Politicians 

The  meeting  closed  with  great  cheers  given 
for  Douglas,  for  the  constitution,  and  for 
"our  glorious  Union."  The  following  night 
the  city  council  rescinded  its  action. 

It  was  a  great  triumph  and  a  purely  per 
sonal  victory.  Six  months  before,  Daniel 
Webster,  barred  from .  Faneuil  Hall,  was 
forced  to  defend  his  Seventh  of  March  speech 
in  the  open  air.  He  did  not  compel  his  con 
stituents  to  relent. 

So  John  Randolph  in  1813  was  threatened 
by  a  Virginia  mob  because  he  defied  his  con 
stituents.  He  told  them:  "I  understand 
that  I  am  to  be  assailed  and  insulted  to-day 
if  I  attempt  to  address  the  people.  I  am 
told  that  a  mob  has  been  gathered  for  that 
purpose.  Now,  my  Bible  teaches  me  that 
the  fear  of  God  is  the  beginning  of  wisdom, 
but  that  the  fear  of  man  is  the  consumma 
tion  of  folly."  His  courage  and  noble  defi 
ance  failed  to  reelect  him. 

And  so  Edmund  Burke  defied  the  wishes 
of  his  constituents  in  Bristol,  admonishing 
them:  "I  did  not  obey  your  instructions. 
No,  I  conformed  rather  to  the  instructions  of 
Truth  and  Nature  and  maintained  your  in 
terests  against  your  opinions,  with  a  con 
stancy  that  became  me."  He  was  retired 
from  office  by  their  wrath. 

But  Douglas  dispelled  the  prejudices  of 
his  constituents  and  transformed  their  an 
tagonism  into  hearty  support.  The  threat 
ened  division  of  his  party  in  Illinois  he 


Stephen  A.  Douglas 


averted,  and  he  was  triumphantly  returned 
to  the  senate  in  1852. 

The  prestige  of  this  triumph  augmented 
the  fervor  of  his  following  in  their  desire  to 
nominate  him  for  the  Presidency  in  1852. 
The  national  Democratic  convention  met  at 
Baltimore  in  June.  Douglas  was  only  thirty- 
nine  years  old  and  the  adored  leader  of  the 
younger  element  in  his  party.  These  youth 
ful  friends,  in  their  eager  haste  to  honor  their 
idol,  overstepped  the  bounds  of  propriety. 
They  secured  control  of  several  influential 
papers,  including  the  "Democratic  Review" 
a  monthly  magazine  devoted  to  the  interests 
of  the  party.  In  this  journal  the  young  hot 
heads  published  a  series  of  articles  attacking 
the  older  party  leaders  in  very  undignified 
and  undiplomatic  and  unwise  language. 
They  attempted  to  show  that  the  "old 
fogies"  had  outlived  their  usefulness  and 
were  "  in  the  way."  They  called  themselves 
"Young- America/7  and  Cass,  Butler,  Bu 
chanan  and  Marcy  they  called  "hucksters," 
"old  clothes  horses/'  and  other  such  un 
called-for  names.  This  was  poor  prepara 
tion  for  an  onslaught  upon  the  convention. 
They  found  that  their  hot  zeal,  while  con 
suming  their  own  reason,  had  filled  all  the 
conservatives  with  unyielding  prejudice. 
They  could  make  no  alliance  with  either 
Cass,  Marcy,  or  Buchanan,  the  other  candi 
dates.  It  was  Douglas  against  the  field. 
He  received  twenty  votes  on  the  first  ballot 


318    Five  American  Politicians 

and  ninety-two  on  the  thirtieth.  Then  his 
strength  declined.  Cass  received  131  votes. 
Marcy's  highest  was  98,  and  Buchanan's  104. 
But  if  the  "fogies"  were  unbending,  so  also 
was  "  Young  America."  As  frequently  hap 
pens  in  our  nominating  conventions,  a  "dark 
horse"  was  brought  in,  and  on  the  forty- 
ninth  ballot  Franklin  Pierce  was  nominated 
by  an  almost  unanimous  vote. 

The  defeat  stung  Douglas's  pride,  and  his 
juvenile  following  was  crestfallen.  They 
realized  that  their  intemperate  campaign  had 
defeated  their  favorite.  It  is  probable  that 
this  defeat  effectually  barred  the  White 
House  door  to  the  brilliant  Douglas,  for  it 
put  all  his  rivals  on  their  mettle,  and  gave 
them  time  to  plot  his  overthrow,  as  we  shall 
see,  in  1856.  It  also  had  some  effect  upon 
his  attitude  toward  the  Kansas-Nebraska 
legislation. 

This  legislation  forms  the  pivotal  point  in 
Douglas's  career.  His  attitude  toward  it 
brought  upon  him  the  immediate  and  re 
lentless  censure  of  the  anti-slavery  Whigs, 
the  ultimate  disapprobation  and  alienation 
of  the  slavery  extensionists,  the  quick  con 
demnation  of  his  constituency;  it  brought 
him  neither  the  electoral  vote  of  the  south 
nor  the  undivided  Democratic  vote  of  the 
north;  it  robbed  him  of  the  fealty  of  many 
friends;  and  brought  him  the  support  of  not 
one  enemy.  For  its  unhappy  author  it  has 
been  the  unremitting  source  of  censure  from 


Stephen  A.  Douglas          319 

historian  and  biographer,.  The  phantom  of 
Kansas-Nebraska  even  to-day  pursues  the 
name  of  the  unfortunate  politician  and 
makes  of  popular  sovereignty  a  mockery. 

This  destructive  tide  of  censure,  this  cu 
mulative  condemnation,  this  relentless  criti 
cism  is  heaped  upon  him  because  his  terri 
torial  bill  repealed  the  Missouri  compromise 
of  1820,  because  it  opened  the  flood  gates 
of  anarchy  and  civil  war  in  Kansas,  because 
it  tore  asunder  a  great  and  glorious  political 
party,  and  because  it  hastened  the  bloody 
day  of  reckoning  for  slavery.  It  is  the  be 
lief  of  historians,  as  it  was  the  judgment  of 
his  contemporaries,  that  Douglas  framed 
this  measure  in  contradiction  of  his  avowed 
principles  and  for  the  purpose  of  placating 
and  gaining  the  votes  of  the  south;  that  he 
sold  the  birthright  of  conscience  for  a  mess 
of  political  pottage.  This  is  a  most  serious 
charge,  and  it  is  necessary  to  trace  the  steps 
that  led  to  the  perfection  of  the  repeal. 

The  key  to  American  politics  from  1820 
to  1860  is  the  institution  of  slavery.  The 
reader  must  constantly  bear  in  mind  that 
with  each  recurring  decade  the  advocates 
of  slavery  became  bolder  and  more  insa 
tiate,  and  looked  forward  to  new  fields  for 
the  spread  of  their  system  of  slave  labor. 
Thus  it  happened  that  whenever  new  terri 
tory  was  added  to  our  national  domain,  the 
slavery  extensionists  made  frantic  efforts  to 
secure  the  recognition  of  slavery  within  its 


320    Five  American  Politicians 

precincts.  The  first  great  addition  of  terri 
tory  to  the  nation  was  the  Louisiana  Pur 
chase.  The  admission  of  Missouri,  a  state 
carved  out  of  the  purchase,  precipitated  the 
memorable  struggle  that  ended  in  the  adop 
tion  of  the  Missouri  compromise  of  1820. 
The  second  vast  addition  of  territory,  we 
acquired  by  conquest  from  Mexico.  This 
was  a  pro-slavery  acquisition,  and  when  the 
time  came  to  admit  California,  the  first 
fruits  of  that  conquest,  the  slavery  leaders 
again  fought  desperately  for  the  extension 
of  their  peculiar  institution.  The  compro 
mise  of  1850  restored  peace,  and  both  sides 
expressed  themselves  as  fairly  satisfied. 

These  compromises  were  regarded  as 
final.  Yet  any  one  wrho  carefully  noted  the 
drift  of  affairs  could  discern  that  they  could 
not  be  final.  For  the  compromise  of  1850 
was  clearly  an  advance  upon  that  of  1820. 
But,  at  the  time,  no  one  cared  to  disturb  the 
pleasant  tranquillity  of  sentiment,  and  both 
parties  professed  the  finality  of  the  com 
promise.  Every  one  wanted  the  slavery 
question  to  be  at  rest.  Douglas  joined  in 
this  universal  chorus  of  approval.  In  1851 
he  said  in  a  speech  in  the  senate:  "I  wish 
to  state  that  I  have  determined  never  to 
make  another  speech  upon  the  slavery 
question;  and  I  will  now  add  the  hope  that 
the  necessity  for  it  will  never  exist.  *  * 
So  long  as  our  opponents  do  not  agitate  for 
repeal  or  modification  of  [the  compromises] , 


Stephen  A.  Douglas          321 

why  should  we  agitate  for  any  purpose?  We 
claim  that  the  compromise  [of  1850]  is  a 
final  settlement.  Is  a  final  settlement  open 
to  discussion  and  agitation  and  controversy 
by  its  friends?"  And  in  1849  he  declared 
that  the  Missouri  Compromise  had  "an 
origin  akin  to  the  constitution/'  and  that 
it  was  "  canonized  in  the  hearts  of  the  Amer 
ican  people  as  a  sacred  thing,  which  no  ruth 
less  hand  would  ever  be  reckless  enough  to 
disturb." 

Douglas,  like  most  of  his  contemporaries, 
did  not  realize  that  slavery  was  a  festering 
sore,  always  probed  by  its  nurses  and  con 
stantly  discharging  its  loathsome,  poison 
ous  gangrene;  that  it  was  incurable  and 
must  be  cut  out,  completely  eradicated,  be 
fore  the  nation  could  be  rid  of  slavery- 
eruptions.  (J\ 

The  admission  of  California  and  the  build 
ing  up  of  the  wrest  brought  the  direct  occasion 
for  the  repeal  of  the  compromise.  The  en 
chanted  valleys  of  the  Golden  State  drew 
toward  them  constant  streams  of  emigrants. 
Oregon  and  Minnesota,  both  newly  organ 
ized  territories,  attracted  the  more  prosaic 
pioneers,  the  homesteaders;  while  the  mines 
of  New  Mexico  and  Utah,  also  newly  formed 
territories,  lured  the  more  romantic  seeker 
after  fortune.  Between  these  far-distant 
regions  and  the  Louisiana  Purchase  lay  a 
vast  strip  of  territory  set  aside  as  the  final 
rendezvous  of  the  Red  Man.  Into  these  res- 

*'.*    21 


322    Five  American  Politicians 

ervations  broke  the  ever  increasing  flood  of 
immigration.  Through  the  realm  of  the  In 
dian  led  the  well-worn  routes  of  travel.  It 
was  evident  that  to  the  enormous  increase 
in  the  number  of  western  immigrants,  the 
government  must  provide  protection.  No 
one  knew  this  better  than  Douglas;  there 
was  no  more  ardent  lover  of  the  boundless 
west  in  congress  than  the  chairman  of  the 
Committee  on  Territories,  and  upon  him  de 
volved  the  task  of  solving  the  problem. 
The  simplest  solution  was  the  organizing  of 
a  territorial  government  that  would  em 
brace  the  lands  lying  between  Missouri  and 
Utah  and  New  Mexico.  What  should  be 
the  status  of  slavery  in  this  new  territory? 
The  compromise  of  1820  drew  the  free  line 
westward  from  Missouri  on  the  parallel  of 
36°  30'.  Would  Douglas  recognize  this  line 
in  his  territorial  bill? 

The  first  Nebraska  bill  was  introduced 
into  the  house  on  February  2,  1853,  by 
Richardson,  of  Illinois,  chairman  of  the  ter 
ritorial  committee,  and  an  intimate  friend 
and  political  adviser  of  Douglas.  The  new 
territory  was  bounded  on  the  east  by  the 
Missouri  River,  on  the  west  by  the  Rocky 
Mountains,  on  the  south  by  36°  30',  or  the 
Southern  Missouri  line,  and  on  the  north 
by  43°,  or  nearly  the  present  northern  line 
of  Iowa.  There  was  not  much  interest 
taken  in  the  bill.  Some  doubt  was  ex 
pressed  as  to  its  utility,  because  only  five  or 


Stephen  A.  Douglas          323 

six  hundred  people  lived  in  the  vast  domain ; 
the  answer  was  that  it  was  meant  to  protect 
"our  commerce,  and  the  fifty  or  sixty  thou 
sand  emigrants  who  annually  cross  the 
plains."  Objection  was  also  made  that 
much  of  the  land  was  Indian  reservation, 
and  the  titles  had  not  been  quieted;  the 
answer  was  the  territory  had  been  made 
so  all-embracing,  that  it  might  include  all 
the  routes  of  travel  between  the  coast  and 
the  Mississippi.  Of  slavery,  there  was  little 
said.  One  congressman  asked  Giddings,  of 
Ohio,  a  member  of  the  Territorial  Committee, 
why  the  ordinance  of  1787  was  not  incor 
porated  in  the  bill.  The  answer  was  signifi 
cant.  Giddings  was,  at  that  time,  the  most 
famous  and  advanced  anti-slavery  member 
of  the  house.  He  answered  that  inasmuch 
as  the  southern  boundary  was  36°  30',  the 
territory  was  included  in  the  compromise  of 
1820.  This  compromise  "stands  perpetu 
ally,"  he  said,  "and  I  do  not  think  that  this 
act  would  receive  any  increased  validity  by 
a  re-enactment.  There  I  leave  the  matter. 
It  is  very  clear  that  the  territory  included 
in  this  treaty  [the  Louisiana  Purchase 
treaty]  must  be  forever  free  unless  the  law 
be  repealed."  There  was  little  more  said 
about  slavery,  and  on  the  10th  of  February 
the  bill  passed. 

In  the  senate  Douglas's  committee  re 
ported  it  back  without  amendment.  It  did 
not  come  up  for  discussion  until  the  last 


324    Five  American  Politicians 

night  of  the  session.  Douglas  was  its  only 
champion.  Here,  as  in  the  house,  the  ques 
tion  of  Indian  titles  and  of  the  paucity  of 
settlers  were  the  powerful  objections, 
while  a  general  apathy  made  it  apparent 
that  the  members  cared  nothing  for  the  bill. 
But  here,  again,  significant  mention  was 
made  of  the  status  of  slavery  in  the  territory, 
this  time  by  a  virulent  pro-slavery  cham 
pion,  Senator  Atchison,  of  Missouri,  the 
same  Atchison  who  became  the  instigator 
of  the  border  ruffians  a  few  years  later,  and 
after  whom  the  leading  slavery  stronghold 
in  Kansas  was  named.  He  spoke  in  favor 
of  the  bill.  He  had  originally  opposed  the 
measure,  he  said,  for  two  reasons :  One  was 
the  cloud  upon  the  title.  "  Another  was, 
the  Missouri  compromise,  or,  as  it  is  com 
monly  called,  the  slavery  restriction.  It 
was  my  opinion  at  that  time — and  I  am  not 
now  very  clear  on  that  subject — that  the 
law  of  congress,  when  the  state  of  Missouri 
was  admitted  to  the  union,  excluding  slav 
ery  from  the  territory  of  Louisiana,  north  of 
36°  30',  would  be  enforced  in  that  territory 
unless  it  was  specially  rescinded;  and, 
whether  that  law  was  in  accordance  with  the 
constitution  of  the  United  States  or  not,  it 
wrould  do  its  work,  and  that  work  would  be 
to  preclude  slaveholders  from  going  into  that 
territory.  But  when  I  came  to  look  into 
that  question,  I  found  that  there  was  no 
prospect,  no  hope  of  a  repeal  of  the  Missouri 


Stephen  A.  Douglas  325 

compromise  excluding  slavery  from  that 
territory.  *  *  *  I  have  always  been 
of  the  opinion  that  the  first  great  error  com 
mitted  in  the  political  history  of  this  coun 
try  was  the  ordinance  of  1787,  rendering  the 
Northwest  Territory  free  territory.  The 
next  great  error  was  the  Missouri  compro 
mise.  But  they  are  both  irremediable. 
We  must  submit  to  them.  I  am  pre 
pared  to  do  it.  It  is  evident  that  the 
Missouri  compromise  cannot  be  repealed. 
So  far  as  that  question  is  concerned  we 
might  as  well  agree  to  the  admission  of  this 
territory  now  as  next  year,  or  five  or  ten 
years  hence."  After  this  interesting  deliv 
ery  Douglas  made  his  final  plea,  remaining 
silent  on  the  slavery  question.  The  bill 
was  tabled  on  the  last  night  of  the  session. 
Both  in  the  house  and  the  senate  the  south 
was  against  the  bill. 

Early  in  the  next  session,  Senator  Dodge  of 
Iowa  introduced  a  similar  bill  and  this  was 
referred  to  Douglas's  committee.  In  the 
secret  chamber  of  the  Territorial  Committee, 
the  south  now  proposed  its  advance  step, 
the  creation  of  the  new  territory  with  the 
repeal  of  the  Missouri  compromise.  We 
have  no  conception  to-day  what  that  meant. 
If  some  one  to-day  should  propose  the  re 
peal  of  the  federal  constitution,  it  would 
be  received  with  no  more  surprise  and 
alarm,  than  was  the  bold  proposal  of  the 
south  to  repeal  the  compromise.  The  se- 


326    Five  American  Politicians         ( 

cret  transactions  of  the  committee  have  not 
been  preserved  for  us.  We  can  only  con 
clude  from  desultory  statements  and  the 
events  that  soon  after  transpired,  what 
course  the  contentions  in  the  committee 
took.  It  appears  that  the  southern  Demo 
crats  insisted  that  the  constitution  gave 
them  the  right  to  take  their  property  into 
the  territories.  The  northern  Democrats, 
especially  Douglas,  believed  slavery  to  be 
a  local  institution,  subject  to  local  law,  and 
that  a  territory  had  the  same  power  as  a 
state  to  prohibit  it.  An  agreement  was 
reached  whereby  both  parties  consented  to 
let  the  supreme  court  decide  the  extent  of 
congressional  control  over  slavery  in  the 
territories,  and  both  sides  promised  to 
abide  by  such  decision. 

This  was  the  status  of  affairs  when,  on 
January  4,  1854,  Douglas  brought  in  his  bill 
for  organizing  Nebraska  Territory.  There 
was  no  mention  made  of  slavery  in  the  pro 
visions  relating  to  the  territory,  but  a  clause 
was  added  which  provided  that:  "When 
admitted  as  a  state  the  said  territory  or  any 
portion  of  the  same  shall  be  received  into 
the  Union,  with  or  without  slavery,  as  its 
constitution  may  prescribe  at  the  time  of 
its  admission."  This  was  simple  enough, 
and  seemingly  in  accord  with  the  compro 
mises  of  1820  and  1850. 

But  the  bill  was  accompanied  by  a  report 
in  which  Douglas  explained  his  views  of  the 


] Stephen  A.  Douglas          327 

compromise  of  1850.  The  report  is  more 
valuable  for  our  purpose  than  the  bill.  The 
principles  of  1850  he  affirmed  were  "that 
all  questions  pertaining  to  slavery  in  the 
territories  and  in  the  new  states  to  be 
formed  therefrom,  are  to  be  left  to  the  de 
cision  of  the  people  residing  therein,  by 
their  appropriate  representatives  to  be 
chosen  by  them  for  that  purpose;  that  all 
cases  involving  title  to  slaves  and  questions 
of  personal  freedom  are  to  be  referred  to  the 
adjudication  of  the  local  tribunals,  with  the 
right  of  appeal  to  the  supreme  court  of  the 
United  States;  that  the  provisions  of  the 
constitution  of  the  United  States  in  respect 
to  fugitives  from  service  are  to  be  carried 
into  faithful  execution  in  all  the  organized 
territories  the  same  as  in  the  states." 

In  1850  he  told  his  constituents  in  the 
Chicago  speech  quoted  above,  that  the  com 
promise  of  1850  was  based  upon  the  great 
principle  that  each  territory  shall  decide  for 
itself  the  question  of  slavery.  The  exposi 
tion  he  now  made  to  the  senate  was  virtually 
the  same.  Both  amounted,  in  spirit,  to  a  re 
peal  of  the  compromise  of  1820.  But  he  would 
not,  as  yet,  admit  this  to  be  true.  For  when, 
on  the  16th  of  January,  Senator  Dixon,  of 
-Kentucky ,  proposed  an  amendment  expressly 
repealing  that  portion  of  the  act  of  1820  which 
prohibited  slavery  in  the  territories,  Douglas 
was  greatly  discomfited.  We  will  let  Pixon's 
own  words  relate  what  took  place. 


328    Five  American  Politicians 

"  My  amendment  seemed  to  take  the  sen 
ate  by  surprise,  and  no  one  appeared  more 
startled  than  Judge  Douglas  himself.  He 
immediately  came  to  my  seat  and  courteous 
ly  remonstrated  against  my  amendment 
suggesting  that  the  bill  which  he  had  intro 
duced  was  almost  in  the  words  of  the  terri 
torial  acts  for  the  organization  of  Utah  and 
New  Mexico;  that  they  being  part  of  the 
compromise  measures  of  1850  he  had  hoped 
that  I,  a  known  and  zealous  friend  of  the 
wise  and  patriotic  adjustment  which  had 
then  taken  place,  would  not  be  inclined  to 
do  anything  to  call  that  adjustment  in  ques 
tion,  or  weaken  it  before  the  country.  I  re 
plied  that  it  was  precisely  because  I  had 
been  and  was  a  firm  and  zealous  friend  of 
the  compromise  of  1850  that  I  felt  bound  to 
persist  in  the  movement  which  I  had  origi 
nated;  that  I  was  well  satisfied  that  the  Mis 
souri  restriction,  if  not  expressly  repealed, 
would  continue  to  operate  in  the  territory 
totwhich  it  had  been  applied,  thus  negotiat 
ing  the  great  and  salutary  principle  of  non 
intervention,  which  constituted  the  most  prom 
inent  and  essential  feature  of  the  plan  of  settle 
ment  of  1850.  We  talked  for  some  time  am 
icably  and  then  separated.  Some  days  af 
terwards  Judge  Douglas  came  to  my  lodg 
ings  whilst  I  was  confined  by  physical  indis 
position,  and  urged  me  to  get  up  and  take  a 
ride  with  him  in  his  carriage.  I  accepted 
his  invitation,  and  rode  out  with  him.  Dur- 


Stephen  A.  Douglas          329 

ing  our  short  excursion  we  talked  on  the 
subject  of  my  proposed  amendment.  Judge 
Douglas,  to  my  high  gratification,  proposed 
to  me  that  I  should  allow  him  to  take 
charge  of  the  amendment  and  ingraft  it  on 
his  territorial  bill.  I  acceded  to  the  propo 
sition  at  once,  whereupon  a  most  interesting 
interchange  occurred  between  us. 

"On  this  occasion  Judge  Douglas  spoke 
to  me  in  substance  thus:  'I  have  become 
perfectly  satisfied  that  it  is  my  duty  as  a 
fair-minded  national  statesman  to  cooperate 
with  you  as  proposed,  in  securing  the  re 
peal  of  the  Missouri  compromise  restric 
tion.  It  is  due  to  the  south,  it  is  due  to 
the  constitution,  heretofore  palpably  in 
fracted;  it  is  due  to  the  character  for  con 
sistency  which  I  have  heretofore  labored  to 
maintain.  The  repeal,  if  we  can  effect  it, 
will  produce  much  stir  and  commotion  in 
the  free  states  of  the  Union  for  a  season.  I 
shall  be  assailed  by  demagogues  and  fanatics 
there  without  stint  or  moderation.  Every 
opprobrious  epithet  will  be  applied  to  me. 
I  shall  probably  be  hung  in  effigy  in  many 
places.  It  is  more  than  probable  that  I 
shall  become  permanently  odious  among 
those  whose  friendship  and  esteem  I  have 
heretofore  possessed.  This  proceeding  may 
end  my  political  career,  but,  acting  under 
the  sense  of  duty  which  animates  me,  I  am 
prepared  to  make  the  sacrifice,  I  will  do  it.' 
He  spoke  in  the  most  earnest  and  touching 


33°    Five  American  Politicians 

manner  and  I  confess  that  I  was  deeply  af 
fected.  I  said  to  him  in  reply :  'Sir,  I  once 
recognized  you  as  a  demagogue,  a  mere 
party  manager,  selfish  and  intriguing.  I 
now  find  you  a  warm-hearted  and  sterling 
patriot.  Go  forward  in  the  pathway  of 
duty  as  you  propose,  and  though  all  the 
world  desert  you,  I  never  will/  ' 

Senator  Atchison  was  at  this  time  presi 
dent  pro  tempore  of  the  senate.  Since  he 
made  the  remarks  quoted  above  on  the  first 
Nebraska  bill  he  had  evidently  become  con 
vinced  that  the  compromise  could  be  re 
pealed.  In  his  public  speeches  he  pledged 
himself  not  to  vote  for  any  territorial  bill 
that  did  not  annul  or  repeal  it.  He  desired 
to  introduce  such  a  bill,  and  was  anxious  to 
become  chairman  of  the  Committee  on  Terri 
tories.  He  told  Douglas  that  he  would  re 
sign  the  presidency  of  the  senate  if  Douglas 
would  resign  chairmanship  of  the  committee. 
Thus  the  way  would  open  for  Atchison  to 
champion  the  repeal.  Douglas  asked  for 
twenty-four  hours  to  consider  the  matter, 
and  at  the  expiration  of  that  time  told 
Atchison  he  was  willing  to  introduce  the 
bill  himself. 

This  he  did,  on  the  23rd  day  of  January. 
The  new  bill  contained  the  novel  doctrine 
that  the  principles  of  the  act  of  1850  made  in 
operative  the  prohibition  of  slavery  north  of 
36°  30'  contained  in  the  Missouri  compro 
mise  of  1820.  Out  of  the  half  million 


Stephen  A.  Douglas          331 

square  miles  of  territory  thus  virtually 
opened  to  slavery  Douglas  carved  two  vast 
territories.  The  northern  he  called  Nebras 
ka,  and  the  southern  Kansas.  The  spirit 
of  the  measure  was  non-intervention,  the  fa 
vorite  theme  of  Douglas's  oratory,  but  the 
heart  of  the  Kansas-Nebraska  bill  was  the 
repeal  of  the  Missouri  compromise. 

From  this  recital  of  the  facts,  it  is  evident 
that  Douglas  himself  believed  that  somehow 
in  a  vague  and  mystic  manner  the  principle 
of  non-intervention  was  source  of  the  act 
of  1850.  Indeed,  he  had  maintained  this  in 
all  of  his  public  utterances.  He  therefore 
was  easily  led  to  the  conclusion,  by  gradual 
steps,  guided  by  the  southern  leaders,  that 
non-intervention  was  inconsistent  with  pro 
hibition,  and  that  therefore  the  act  of  1850 
repealed  or  was  inconsistent  with  the  act  of 
1820.  This  sort  of  superficial  logic  was  the 
method  Douglas  used  in  his  debate.  It  was 
the  only  logic  of  which  he  was  capable.  Let 
the  reader  never  forget  that  Douglas  was 
unqualifiedly  and  conscientiously  and  con 
stantly  the  champion  of  non-intervention, 
and  then  it  will  not  be  necessary  to  find  in 
his  ambition  to  become  President,  his  sole 
motive  for  introducing  his  Kansas-Nebraska 
bill. 

That  Douglas  himself  foresaw  the  tragic 
consequences  that  his  attitude  would  bring 
upon  the  country  it  is  impossible  to  believe. 
That  his  desire  to  become  President  im- 


332    Five  American  Politicians 

pelled  him  to  listen  more  willingly  to  the 
luring  words  of  the  southern  tempters,  to 
institute  this  campaign  for  neutral  terri 
tory,  undoubtedly  is  true.  That  is  a  weak 
ness  common  to  all  mankind.  But  that  he 
willingly  plunged  the  nation  into  the  boiling 
cauldron  of  civil  strife,  that  he  might  take 
political  advantage  of  the  situation,  is  un 
thinkable  in  the  light  of  his  subsequent  acts 
of  patriotism  and  bravery. 

To  do  him  justice,  let  us  not  forget  that 
he  had  for  years  been  a  virile  advocate  of 
territorial  home  rule.  To  him,  this  was 
pure  democracy:  that  each  county,  each 
state,  each  territory  be  allowed  to  control 
its  own  domestic  affairs,  and  as  long  as  he 
believed  slavery  to  be  a  domestic  institu 
tion,  the  logic  of  his  position  was  not  unten 
able.  The  ultimate  form  of  state  rights  is 
local  autonomy  in  domestic  affairs.  To 
day  we  can  see  that  "  Bloody  Kansas  "  was 
the  necessary  prelude  to  the  civil  war.  It  is 
easy  for  us  to  discover  the  truth,  that  slav 
ery,  aggressive,  defiant,  morose,  imperious, 
would  be  unbending,  uncompromising  even 
unto  death ;  that  its  very  attitude  of  treason 
able  defiance  made  war  inevitable.  Let  us 
not  lay  at  the  door  of  Douglas's  ambition 
the  sins  of  rapine  and  murder,  of  arson  and 
burglary  committed  on  the  rolling  prairies 
of  Kansas  during  the  deadly  struggle  for 
freedom  under  the  guise  of  state  autonomy, 

Thus  was  the  slavery  question  reopened; 


Stephen  A.  Douglas          333 

the  "finality"  of  Clay's  compromise  proven 
a  fatuity,  and  the  state  rights  theory  carried 
to  its  limit.  The  epilogue  of  forty  years  of 
slavery  debate,  became  the  prologue  of  war. 
The  challenge  sent  forth  by  Douglas  was 
accepted  eagerly  by  the  anti-slavery  Whigs. 
In  an  address  signed  by  DeWitt,  Smith, 
Wade,  Sumner,  and  Chase,  the  measure  was 
fiercely  attacked.  In  scathing  words  the 
bill  was  characterized  as  "a  gross  violation 
of  a  sacred  pledge,  as  a  criminal  betrayal  of 
precious  rights,  as  a  part  and  parcel  of  an 
atrocious  plot  to  exclude  from  a  vast,  un 
occupied  region  immigrants  from  the  old 
world  and  free  laborers  from  our  own  states, 
and  convert  it  into  a  dreary  region  of  des 
potism  inhabited  by  masters  and  slaves." 
These  words  aroused  all  the  people.  In  the 
north  they  were  received  by  the  Abolition 
ists  as  the  utterances  of  God-ordained 
prophets,  and  became  the  nucleus  of  the 
first  platform  of  the  new  Republican  party; 
in  the  south  they  were  condemned  as  in 
flammatory,  diabolical  and  utterly  inim 
ical  to  the  American  system  of  self-govern 
ment;  in  congress  they  called  forth  a  ner 
vous  and  terrific  assault  from  Douglas  and 
his  cohorts,  and  taunting  replies  from  Chase 
and  Wade.  It  was  evident  from  the  outset 
that  the  northern  Democrats  could  not  coal 
esce  with  the  northern  Whigs,  but  that  the 
southern  Whigs  would  almost  unanimously 
join  the  southern  Democrats  in  defense  of 


334    Five  American  Politicians 

this  bill.  Sectional  feeling  was  earlier  de 
veloped  in  the  south,  and  was  much  stronger 
than  in  the  north. 

Closely  following  his  manifesto  Chase  pre 
sented  an  amendment  striking  out  of  the 
bill  the  words  alluding  to  the  effect  of  the 
compromise  of  1850  upon  the  act  of  1820, 
making  the  Douglas  measure  simply  a  re 
peal  of  the  slavery  clause  of  1820,  as  it  ap 
plied  to  the  specific  territories  organized  by 
that  bill.  This  focused  the  discussion.  It 
was  not  difficult  for  Chase  to  show  the  ab 
surdity  of  Douglas's  jurisprudence;  that  an 
act  of  congress  referring  specifically  to  Utah 
and  New  Mexico,  passed  in  1850,  repealed  a 
prior  act,  passed  three  decades  earlier,  and 
applying  specifically  to  that  part  of  the  ter 
ritory  of  Louisiana  lying  north  of  36°  30'. 

But  the  cry  of  popular  sovereignty  was 
stronger  than  the  logic  of  Chase,  or  the  with 
ering  denunciations  of  Wade,  who  charac 
terized  the  bill  as  a  subterfuge  and  conspir 
acy  between  an  ambitious  presidential  can 
didate  and  slavery.  There  were  many  men 
in  the  north  who  earnestly  believed  that 
Douglas  had  found  the  final  solution  of  the 
perplexing,  perennial  problem  of  slavery. 
Chase's  amendment  was  lost  by  a  more  than 
two- thirds  vote. 

Douglas,  stung  by  the  taunts  of  Chase, 
and  nervous  over  the  attacks  of  Cass,  a 
northern  Democrat  and  able  jurist,  now 
changed  his  bill.  For  the  words,  "which 


Stephen  A.  Douglas          335 

was  superseded  by  the  principles  of  the  legis 
lation  of  1850,  commonly  called  the  com 
promise  measure,  and  is  hereby  declared  in 
operative,"  he  substituted,  "  which,  being 
inconsistent  with  the  principles  of  non-in 
tervention  by  congress  with  slavery  in  the 
states  and  territories,  as  recognized  by  the 
legislation  of  1850,  commonly  called  the 
compromise  measures,  is  hereby  declared 
inoperative  and  void,  it  being  the  true  in 
tent  and  meaning  of  this  act  not  to  legislate 
slavery  into  any  territory  or  state,  nor  ex 
clude  it  therefrom,  but  to  leave  the  people 
thereof  perfectly  free  to  form  and  regulate 
the  domestic  institutions  in  their  own  way, 
subject  only  to  the  constitution  of  the  Unit 
ed  States." 

Thus  the  debate  had  evolved  this  formal  and 
final  form  of  popular  sovereignty.  It  was  a 
far  step  that  Douglas  had  taken  in  the  short 
weeks  intervening  the  introduction  of  the 
first  Nebraska  bill  and  this  ultimate  amend 
ment.  The  veil  was  ripped  from  the  face 
of  the  first  measure  and  here  were  the  words 
plainly  visible,  that  the  compromise  of  1820 
was  repealed  by  that  of  1850,  and  that  the 
people  of  every  state  and  territory  were  to 
be  left  "perfectly  free  to  form  and  regulate 
their  domestic  institutions  in  their  own  way." 
The  amendment  was  adopted  by  a  majority 
of  over  three-fourths,  but  before  the  ballot 
ing,  three  of  the  committee  colleagues  of 
Douglas  deserted  him.  Everett  opposed 


336    Five  American  Politicians 

the  bill  because  he  believed  popular  sover 
eignty  in  the  territories  to  be  a  fatuity,  for 
the  constitution  imposes  upon  congress  the 
duty  to  legislate  for  the  territories.  Hous 
ton,  of  Texas,  opposed  it  because  he  did  not 
wish  to  re-open  the  slavery  question  by  de 
molishing  the  great  compromise.  And  Bell, 
of  Tennessee,  one  of  the  ablest  men  in  the 
senate,  could  not  subscribe  to  the  miserable 
logic  which  maintained  that  the  two  com 
promises  were  inconsistent  with  each  other. 
Bell,  however,  voted  for  the  amendment, 
believing  that  Douglas  should  be  allowed 
the  courtesy  of  perfecting  his  own  bill. 

Chase  pursued  Douglas  unrelentingly. 
The  last  amendment  of  Douglas  concluded 
with  the  words,  "subject  only  to  the  consti 
tution  of  the  United  States."  Chase  now 
moved  to  add,  "  under  which  the  people  of 
the  territory,  through  their  appropriate  rep 
resentatives  may,  if  they  see  fit,  probihit 
the  existence  of  slavery  therein/'  This  was 
truly  in  accord  wifti  the  doctrine  of  home 
rule,  but  it  presented  only  one  side.  That  it 
might  be  complete,  Senator  Platt  moved  to 
include  the  right  to  introduce  slavery  as  well 
as  prohibit  it.  Chase  refused  to  incorporate 
this  in  his  amendment.  Pratt's  motion  was 
withdrawn  because  it  was  unparliamentary, 
it  being  an  amendment  to  an  amendment 
to  Douglas's  amendment.  Chase's  one 
sided  proposition  was  then  promptly  voted 
down. 


Stephen  A.  Douglas          337 

He,  however,  at  once  attacked  the  bill 
from  another  side.  Were  territories  to 
be  allowed  home  rule  only  on  the  question 
of  slavery?  This  would  be,  manifestly,  not 
home  rule  at  all.  Let  all  the  bars  down, 
if  true  popular  rule  is  to  be  the  lot  of  each 
territory,  and  obliterate  every  vestige  of 
congressional  control  over  territories.  This 
was  the  taunting  plea  of  Chase,  as  he  intro 
duced  his  amendment  to  take  from  congress 
its  veto  power  over  territorial  legislation, 
and  mollify  the  veto  power  of  the  territorial 
governor  by  allowing  the  legislature  to  over 
ride  his  veto  by  a  two-thirds  vote.  The  de 
feat  of  this  amendment  brought  forth  still 
another.  If  "  squatters  "  in  Kansas  and  Ne 
braska  were  " sovereigns/7  why  should  they 
not  elect  their  own  governors  and  judges 
and  secretaries,  instead  of  allowing  the 
President  of  the  nation  to  appoint  them? 
This  motion  was  also  lost,  amid  the  jeers  of 
Chase's  followers  that  stirred  the  temper  of 
the  Democrats.  Finally  Chase  moved  that 
only  one  territory  be  created  out  of  the  do 
main.  He  read  aright  the  object  of  forming 
two  territories.  One  was  to  be  devoted  to 
slavery,  the  other  to  freedom.  One  was  a 
gift  to  the  south,  the  other  a  sop  to  the  north. 
His  motion,  of  course,  met  defeat. 

The  bill  was  now  reported  from  the  com 
mittee  of  the  whole  and  March  third  set  as  the 
day  for  the  final  vote.  On  that  day,  Bell, 
of  Tennessee,  made  his  final  and  ablest  argu- 

22 


33$    Five  American  Politicians 

ment  against  the  bill.  He  combatted  the 
notion  that  poular  sovereignty  could  be  es 
tablished  by  act  of  congress ;  he  demonstrat 
ed  to  the  south  that  no  lasting  benefits  could 
come  to  her  by  its  passage ;  he  deplored  the 
immediate  and  far-reaching  sentiment 
against  slavery  that  would  surely  follow. 
His  logic  created  neither  enthusiasm  nor 
conviction. 

Douglas  closed  the  debate  in  a  character 
istic  speech.  Adroitly  he  avoided  the  real 
issue,  and  fastened  the  fallacy  upon  his  audi 
tors,  that  his  committee  had  to  choose  be 
tween  the  " principle"  of  the  compromise  of 
1820,  the  principle  of  exclusion,  and  the 
" principle"  of  1850,  the  principle  of  home 
rule ;  vigorously  he  maintained  that  these  two 
great  acts  were  in  essence  opposed  to  one 
another  and  that  the  act  of  1850  revoked 
the  act  of  1820;  valiantly  he  opposed  the 
contentions  of  Chase  and  Sumner  and  Wade 
and  Seward  that  the  compromise  of  1820 
was  a  solemn  compact,  the  repository  of  a 
lasting  obligation  between  the  north  and  the 
south  to  which  the  north  had  been  faithful 
to  the  letter,  and  from  which  the  south  was 
now  trying  to  slip  aw^ay;  craftily  he  played 
the  magician  in  his  legerdemain  attempt  to 
show  that  Missouri  did  not  come  into  the 
Union  under  the  act  of  1820;  sarcastically 
he  hurled  vindictive  personalities  into  the 
face  of  Chase  and  Sumner,  Wade  and  Se 
ward;  defiantly  he  dared  the  north  to  refuse 


Stephen  A.  Douglas          339 

the  passage  of  his  measure;  pompously  he 
boasted  that  every  American  territory  is 
wholly  capable  of  self-government,  that  the 
grievance  of  the  thirteen  colonies  was  the 
denial  of  this  right  by  Great  Britain,  and  that 
anyone  who  dared  contradict  that  fact  on  the 
senate  floor  was  not  loyal  to  American  senti 
ment;  peevishly  he  denied  that  his  ambi 
tion  for  the  presidency  had  prompted  him 
to  the  creation  of  his  bill;  exultingly  he 
showered  forth  the  pacifying  effects  of  the 
principle  of  home  rule  by  removing  forever 
the  agitation  over  slavery;  patriotically  he 
pleaded  the  permanence  of  the  Union,  as  de 
pendent  upon  the  permanence  of  the  adjust 
ment  of  the  differences  between  the  north  and 
the  south,  and  the  lasting  elimination  of 
sectional  feeling. 

It  was  essentially  a  southern  speech.  The 
north  was  taunted  because  it  opposed  the 
admission  of  all  territories  with  slavery;  the 
Abolitionists  and  Free  Soilers  were  de 
nounced  as  enemies  of  tranquillity  and  com 
promise.  In  a  running  battle  with  Chase  and 
his  colleagues,  who  continually  fired  their 
well  aimed  questions  at  him,  he  shot  the 
grape  and  canister  of  sarcasm  and  ridicule 
into  the  fortresses  of  their  arguments  and 
the  fastnesses  of  their  convictions.  But 
while  he  thus  swung  skilfully  the  lariat  of 
popular  sovereignty,  to  capture  the  votes  of 
the  south,  he  quite  as  masterfully  called 
forth  the  aid  of  the  northern  Democrats  by 


340    Five  American  Politicians 

utterly  avoiding  any  defense  of  slavery. 
Here  was  the  master  politician  playing  both 
sides  at  once,  by  tactfully  aiding  the  one 
and  by  not  offending  the  other.  And  all 
under  the  guise  of  patriotism,  the  starry  can 
opy  that  has  covered  such  a  multitude  of 
fallacies  and  demagogeries. 

"It  is  apparent/'  he  says,  after  quoting 
from  the  instructions  of  the  various  colonies 
to  their  delegates  in  the  Continental  congress, 
"that  the  Declaration  of  Independence  had 
its  origin  in  the  violation  of  that  great  funda 
mental  principle  which  secured  to  the  people 
of  the  colonies  the  right  to  regulate  their 
own  domestic  affairs,  in  their  own  way;  and 
that  the  revolution  resulted  in  the  triumph 
of  that  principle,  and  the  recognition  of  the 
rights  asserted  by  it.  Abolitionism  pro 
poses  to  destroy  the  right  and  extinguish 
the  principle  for  which  our  forefathers  waged 
a  seven  years'  bloody  war,  and  upon  which 
our  whole  system  of  free  government  is 
founded.  They  not  only  deny  the  applica 
tion  of  these  principles  to  the  territories,  but 
insist  upon  fastening  the  prohibition  upon  all 
those  states  to  be  formed  out  of  these  terri 
tories." 

His  was  the  boast  of  the  westerner  when 
he  said:  "You  cannot  fix  bounds  to  the 
onward  march  of  this  great  and  growing 
country.  You  cannot  fetter  the  limbs  of 
the  young  giant.  He  will  burst  all  your 
chains.  He  will  expand  and  grow  and  in- 


Stephen  A.  Douglas          341 

crease  and  extend  civilization,  Christianity 
and  liberal  principles.  Then,  sir,  if  you 
cannot  check  the  growth  of  the  country  in 
that  direction,  is  it  not  the  part  of  wisdom 
to  look  the  days  in  the  face  and  provide  for 
an  event  which  you  cannot  avoid?  I  tell 
you,  sir,  you  must  provide  for  continuous 
lines  of  settlement  from  the  Mississippi  Val 
ley  to  the  Pacific  Ocean.  And  in  making 
this  provision,  you  must  decide  upon  what 
principles  the  territories  shall  be  organized; 
in  ojbher  words,  whether  the  people  shall  be 
allowed  to  regulate  their  domestic  institu 
tions  in  their  own  way,  according  to  the  pro 
visions  of  this  bill,  or  whether  the  opposite 
doctrine  of  congressional  interference  is  to 
prevail.  Postpone  it,  if  you  will;  but  when 
ever  you  do  act,  this  question  must  be  met 
and  decided/'  How  subtle  the  insinuation 
that  the  patriot  could  decide  it  according 
to  the  Declaration  of  Independence! 

But  we  must  attribute  the  profoundest 
sincerity  to  Douglas  in  his  peroration :  "  Af 
fection  for  the  Union  can  never  be  alienated 
or  diminished  by  any  other  party  issues  than 
those  which  are  gained  upon  sectional  or 
geographical  lines.  When  the  people  of  the 
north  shall  all  be  rallied  under  one  banner, 
and  the  whole  south  marshalled  under  an 
other  banner,  and  each  section  excited  to 
frenzy  and  madness  by  hostility  to  the  in 
stitutions  of  the  other,  then  the  patriot  may 
well  tremble  for  the  perpetuity  of  the  Union. 


342    Five  American  Politicians 

Withdraw  the  slavery  question  from  the  po 
litical  arena  and  remove  it  to  the  states  and 
territories,  each  to  decide  for  itself,  such  a 
catastrophy  can  never  happen.  Then  you 
will  never  be  able  to  tell,  by  any  senator's 
vote  for  or  against  any  measure,  from  what 
state  or  section  of  the  Union  he  comes. 

"Why,  then,  can  we  not  withdraw  this 
vexed  question  from  politics?  Why  can  we 
not  adopt  the  principle  of  this  bill  as  a  rule 
of  action  in  all  new  territorial  organizations? 
Why  can  we  not  deprive  these  agitators  of 
their  vocation  and  render  it  impossible  for 
senators  to  come  here  upon  bargains  on  the 
slavery  question?  I  believe  that  the  peace 
and  harmony  and  the  perpetuity  of  the 
Union  requires  us  to  go  back  to  the  doctrine 
of  the  Revolution,  to  the  principles  of  the 
constitution,  the  Compromise  of  1850,  and 
leave  the  people,  under  the  constitution,  to 
do  as  they  may  see  proper  in  respect  to  their 
own  internal  affairs. 

"Mr.  President,  I  have  not  brought  this 
question  forward  as  a  northern  man  or  as  a 
southern  man.  I  am  unwilling  to  recognize 
such  divisions  and  distinctions.  I  have 
brought  it  forward  as  an  American  senator, 
representing  a  state  which  is  true  to  this 
principle,  and  which  has  approved  of  my 
action  in  respect  to  the  Nebraska  Bill.  I  have 
brought  it  forward  not  as  an  act  of  justice 
to  the  south  more  than  to  the  north ;  I  have 
presented  it  especially  as  an  act  of  justice  to 


Stephen  A.  Douglas          343 

the  people  of  those  territories  a  ad  of  the 
states  to  be  formed  therefrom  now  and  in 
all  time  to  come.  I  have  nothing  to  say 
about  northern  rights  or  southern  rights. 
I  know  of  no  such  divisions  or  distinctions 
under  the  constitution.  The  bill  does  equal 
and  exact  justice  to  the  whole  Union ,  and 
every  part  of  it;  it  violates  the  right  of  no 
state  or  territory,  but  places  each  on  a  per 
fect  equality  and  leaves  the  people  thereof 
to  the  free  enjoyment  of  all  their  rights  under 
the  constitution. 

"Now,  sir,  I  wish  to  say  to  our  southern 
friends  that  if  they  desire  to  see  this  great 
principle  carried  out,  now  is  their  time  to 
rally  around  it,  to  cherish  it,  preserve  it, 
make  it  the  rule  of  action  of  all  future  time. 
If  they  fail  to  do  it  now  and  thereby  allow 
the  doctrine  of  interference  to  prevail,  upon 
their  heads  the  consequence  of  that  inter 
ference  must  rest.  To  our  northern  friends 
on  the  other  hand  I  desire  to  say,  that  from 
this  day  henceforward  they  must  rebuke  the 
slander  which  has  been  uttered  against  the 
south  that  they  desire  to  legislate  slavery 
into  the  territories.  *  *  We  are  willing 
to  stand  upon  this  great  principle  of  self- 
government  everywhere;  and  it  is  to  us  a 
proud  reflection  that,  in  this  whole  discus 
sion,  no  friend  of  the  bill  has  urged  an  argu 
ment  in  its  favor  which  could  not  be  used 
in  a  free  state  as  well  as  in  a  slave  state  and 
vice  versa.  But  no  enemy  of  the  bill  has 


344    Five  American  Politicians 

used  an  argument  which  would  bear  repeti 
tion  one  mile  across  Mason  and  Dixon's  line. 
Our  opponents  have  dealt  entirely  in  sec 
tional  appeal.  The  friends  of  the  bill  have 
discussed  a  great  principle  of  universal  ap 
plication,  which  can  be  sustained  by  the 
same  reasons,  and  the  same  arguments,  in 
every  time  and  in  every  corner  of  the 
Union." 

It  was  nearly  five  o'clock  on  the  morning 
of  March  4,  1854,  when  Douglas  concluded 
these  words  of  sophistry  and  prophecy.  All 
night  long  the  debate  had  surged  wild  and 
fierce.  For  seventeen  hours,  without  pause, 
the  Little  Giant  defied  the  united  powers 
of  the  opposition.  His  energy,  his  daring, 
his  demagogism,  his  earnestness  prevailed. 
Thirty-seven  votes  were  cast  for  his  bill, 
fourteen  against  it.  By  the  end  of  May  it 
had  passed  the  house  and  received  the  Presi 
dent's  signature. 

How  true  it  proved  that  patriots  trembled 
"  for  the  perpetuity  of  the  Union  "  when  the 
issues  were  finally  "joined  upon  sectional 
or  geographical  lines."  How  strange  that 
Douglas  should  fail  to  see  that  he  was  has 
tening  his  country  to  the  very  consumma 
tion  of  this  woeful  condition;  that  slavery 
was  the  very  issue  destined  by  nature  to 
thus  sever  the  Union.  Instead  of  a  harmless 
local  question,  to  be  settled  by  the  people 
of  the  various  states,  it  was  a  virulent  na 
tional  issue,  to  be  settled  by  all  the  people 


Stephen  A.  Douglas          345 

of  all  the  states.  Douglas  tried  to  tether 
a  raving  bull  with  a  cord  of  tissue  paper. 

Such  northern  sentiment  as  had  arisen  in 
favor  of  the  Nebraska  Bill,  rapidly  receded 
after  its  passage.  The  people  of  the  north 
believed  that  somehow  they  had  been  cheat 
ed,  that  the  south  had  played  them  a  sharp 
trick.  The  great  Compromises  they  held 
to  be  more  binding  than  ordinary  legislation, 
because  they  established  a  working  principle, 
which  should  determine  the  admission  of 
new  states  that  came  from  the  west,  seeking 
entrance  to  the  Union.  This  plighted  troth 
now  was  broken.  The  sacred  line  of  thirty- 
six  degrees,  thirty  minutes  w^as  wiped  out. 
The  north  believed  that  it  had  been  willfully 
and  maliciously  injured.  This  belief  may 
have  been  founded  upon  fancy  quite  as  much 
as  upon  reason,  but  it  prevailed  throughout 
the  free  states.  Nor  did  the  slave  states  do 
anything  to  disabuse  the  minds  of  their  nor 
thern  neighbors. 

Douglas  was  to  discover  the  bitterness  of 
this  resentment  upon  his  return  to  Chicago. 
He  found  the  city  in  a  tumult  of  abolition 
excitement,  himself  the  hated  object  of  popu- 
ular  arraignment  lampooned  and  hung  in 
effigy;  and  his  popular  sovereignty  measure 
the  subject  of  universal  opprobium.  On 
the  day  of  his  homecoming  flags  were  float 
ing  at  half  mast,  bells  were  tolling  a  doleful 
dirge,  and  his  portraits  were  displayed  in  the 
shop  windows  framed  in  black  crepe.  But 


346    Five  American  Politicians 

Douglas  was  not  a  man  to  wince.  His  bra 
very  outlived  mobs  and  his  courage  outran 
fleet-footed  malice.  He  challenged  the  city. 
He  announced  that  he  would  speak  in  North 
Market  hall  the  following  Saturday  night. 
There  he  would  explain  the  principles  of 
home  rule,  and  declare  the  causes  for  his 
action.  Ten  thousand  people  responded  to 
this  announcement.  The  hall  could  not  con 
tain  them,  so  Douglas  spoke  from  a  balcony. 
It  was  an  infuriated  throng  that  had  not 
come  to  attend  reason  but  to  do  violence  to 
fair  play.  They  greeted  their  senator  with 
jeers  and  hisses;  they  answered  his  sentences 
with  hoots  and  cat  calls.  Calmly  Douglas 
faced  their  fury.  He  tried  every  device 
known  to  the  accomplished  'debater;  story, 
jest  and  gibe,  sarcasm,  ridicule,  and  exhor 
tation.  But  all  in  vain.  They  would  not 
hear  him.  He  could  not  conquer  the  mob, 
and  unfortunately  he  allowed  the  mob  to 
capture  his  temper,  and  toward  midnight  he 
pulled  out  his  watch  and  shouted:  "It  is 
now  Sunday  morning.  I  will  bid  you  good 
bye.  I  am  going  to  church  and  you  can  go 
to  hell." 

The  scene  of  the  struggle  for  nationalism 
now  shifts  from  Washington  to  Kansas,  from 
the  halls  of  congress  to  the  rolling  plains  of 
the  far  west.  Upon  those  virgin  prairies 
are  to  be  fought  the  skirmishes  that  will  be 
come  a  Lexington  and  a  Concord  for  a  new 


Stephen  A.  Douglas          347 

era  of  freedom.  There  will  meet  the  deter 
mined  advance  guard  of  slavery,  and  the 
resolute  pioneers  of  freedom.  The  clash  of 
their  arms  will  resound  throughout  the 
world,  and  their  sacrifices  will  make  sacred 
in  our  history  the  name  of  "  Bloody  Kansas." 
Let  the  story  of  this  struggle  for  Kansas  re 
veal  how  vain  was  Douglas's  contention  that 
slavery  is  a  mere  local  institution,  and  the 
futility  of  his  remedy  for  slavery  agitation 
in  home  rule.  For  when  popular  sovereign 
ty  became  "squatter  sovereignty,"  when 
theory  became  reality,  then  it  was  proclaimed 
to  all  mankind  that  slavery  was  a  national 
institution,  a  universal  woe,  not  to  be  wiped 
out  by  state  statutes  or  municipal  ordinances, 
but  only  by  the  united  effort  of  the  entire 
Union,  and  alas,  by  the  blood  of  man. 

When  it  was  learned  that  the  fate  of  the 
new  territories  depended  upon  the  votes  of 
those  who  should  emigrate  thither,  both 
north  and  south  prepared  to  control  the  ter 
ritorial  electorate.  The  south  had  the  ad 
vantage  of  contiguity.  Missouri  was  a  slave 
state.  It  was  also  a  border  state.  Its  west 
ern  counties  were  inhabited  by  that  class  of 
wild,  desperate,  brutal,  lawless,  vulgar 
characters  that  form  the  usual  frontier  be 
tween  civilization  and  savagery;  men  who 
are  refugees  from  justice,  or  who  have  sought 
the  unconventional  life  of  the  border  to  give 
free  play  to  their  passions,  or  who  have  been 
driven  to  desperate  deeds  by  hard  fate,  and 


Five  American  Politicians 

have  fled  to  the  land  where  all  history  is 
wiped  out  and  men  live  for  the  present  alone. 
While  these  men  had  no  special  reason  to 
espouse  the  cause  of  slavery  they  were  ready 
to  adventure  in  its  behalf,  and  the  slave 
holder  of  Missouri  had  only  to  shape  this 
coarse  material  to  his  wishes.  The  south 
believed  that  fair  play  demanded  Nebraska 
for  the  north,  Kansas  for  the  south,  and 
that  any  attempt  to  control  the  destinies  of 
Kansas  showed  bad  faith  on  the  part  of  the 
north.  Thus  material  interests  were  linked 
with  the  convictions  of  justice  in  the  manip 
ulation  of  the  "border  ruffians."  In  every 
western  county  was  organized  a  "  Self-de 
fensive  Association,"  and  by  September, 
1854,  a  horde  of  over  ten  thousand  brutal, 
reckless  adventurers  were  prepared  to  hurl 
themselves  over  the  border  into  Kansas,  to 
fight  for  the  perpetuation  of  slavery. 

The  north  was  ready  to  meet  this  on 
slaught.  Eli  Thayer,  a  patriotic  and  able 
business  man  of  Worcester,  Massachusetts, 
had  perfected  a  plan  for  the  organization  of 
an  emigrant  aid  society.  It  was  his  purpose  to 
back  this  society  with  an  enormous  capital, 
to  put  it  upon  a  firm  business  basis,  to  gain 
the  control  of  vast  tracts  of  land  in  the  ter 
ritories,  to  found  churches,  to  build  schools, 
mills,  stores  and  taverns,  and  to  invite  sober 
and  industrious  homeseekers  to  take  ad 
vantage  of  these  preparations  and  make 
Kansas  their  home.  These  immigrants  he 


Stephen  A.  Douglas          349 

proposed  to  organize  into  companies,  to 
guide  them  to  their  destination,  and  aid 
them  in  every  possible  way  to  settle  down 
to  their  chosen  pursuits.  He  endeavored  to 
reduce  the  hardships  of  migration  and  settle 
ment  in  a  new  country.  His  company  was 
not  organized  until  1855,  but  in  1854,  with 
the  cooperation  of  several  other  gentlemen, 
he  sent  out  a  party  of  thirty  immigrants, 
who  founded  the  city  of  Lawrence.  This 
little  company  had  been  preceded  by  Dr. 
Charles  Robinson,  who  was  sent  by  Thay- 
er  and  his  colleagues  to  reconnoiter.  Dr. 
Robinson  became  a  leading  figure  in  the  or 
ganizing  of  the  free  state.  He  had  been  a 
"forty-niner"  in  California,  had  helped  or 
ganize  the  vigilance  committees,  and  had 
been  active  in  preparing  California  for  the 
Union.  This  valuable  experience  he  sup 
plemented  with  courage,  adaptability,  sound 
sense  and  keen  judgment. 

The  south  pictured  the  emigrant  aid  so 
ciety  as  a  hideous  monster,  conceived  in  the 
desire  to  deprive  the  slave  states  of  their 
lawful  rights.  The  southern  press  described 
its  leaders  as  enemies  of  the  Union,  its  ranks 
were  filled,  they  declared,  with  the  outcasts 
of  jails  and  slums.  'The  southern  people 
believed  that  they  were  armed  with  guns 
and  sabres  and  proposed  entering  Kan 
sas  like  an  invading  army.  The  national 
government  also  looked  upon  Thayer's 
scheme  with  displeasure.  The  President 


35°    Five  American  Politicians 

maintained  that  every  one  should  be  free  to 
go  as  he  chose;  that  individual  autonomy 
must  precede  state  autonomy.  Organized 
immigration  from  the  north,  then,  was  con 
sidered  hostile  to  the  principle  of  home  rule. 
Thus  did  prejudice  precede  the  immigrant 
bands  and  make  their  journey  doubly  diffi 
cult.  They  were  misunderstood  from  the 
beginning.  For  there  were  no  abolitionists 
among  their  leaders,  and  scarcely  any  in 
their  ranks.  Thayer,  and  Robinson,  and 
Lawrence,  and  their  associates  were  northern 
Whigs  and  Freesoilers.  They  wished  to  in 
fuse  enough  freesoil  sentiment  into  Kansas 
to  preserve  its  broad  fields  for  free  labor. 

By  September,  1854,  Dr.  Robinson  had 
brought  two  hundred  northern  immigrants 
to  Lawrence.  The  site  was  claimed  by  a 
Missourian,  who  refused  to  submit  his  claim 
to  arbitration.  He  called  a  band  of  rowdies 
to  his  assistance,  but  the  firmness  of  the  im 
migrants  compelled  the  retreat  of  the  first 
invasion  of  Missouri. 

Gentle  Governor  Reeder,  a  Douglas  Dem 
ocrat  of  mild  quality,  now  issued  orders  for 
the  election  of  the  first  delegate  of  the  terri 
tory  to  congress.  This  was  the  occasion 
for  the  second  invasion  of  Kansas.  Nearly 
two  thousand  ruffians  crossed  the  border 
and  cast  their  illegal  votes  for  J.  W.  Whit- 
field,  the  pro-slavery  candidate.  This  fine 
burlesque  upon  home  rule  was  followed  in 
the  spring  of  1855  by  an  even  more  bold  and 


Stephen  A.  Douglas          351 

shameful  outrage  upon  the  principle  of  pop 
ular  sovereignty.  The  occasion  was  the 
election  of  the  first  territorial  legislature. 
A  census  of  the  territory  showed  the  popu 
lation  to  be  about  eight  thousand  five  hun 
dred.  Perhaps  three  thousand  of  these 
were  voters,  nearly  three-fourths  of  whom 
had  come  from  the  south.  It  was  self-evi 
dent  that  the  pro-slavery  element  could 
carry  the  election.  But  to  make  it  doubly 
sure,  five  thousand  border  ruffians,  organ 
ized  in  companies  and  regiments,  with 
drums  beating  and  fifes  shrieking  and  ban 
ners  flying,  armed  to  the  teeth  as  for  bloody 
battle,  marched  to  the  polling  places  and 
carried  the  election.  This  open  fraud  was 
countenanced  by  the  government  at  Wash 
ington,  but  bitterly  condemned  by  the  north 
ern  states. 

Their  election  thus  wrought  through  bra 
zen  effrontery,  it  is  no  wonder  that  the  work 
of  these  legislators  reached  the  extremes  of 
infamy.  The  governor  had  called  the  legis 
lature  to  meet  at  Pawnee.  It  remained 
there  four  days,  then  it  adjourned  itself  to 
Shawnee  Mission,  near  the  Missouri  border, 
within  hailing  distance  of  its  creators  in  Mis 
souri.  The  governor  vetoed  the  proposition 
to  change  the  meeting-place,  and  broke  off 
all  official  communication  with  the  legis 
lature  when  it  left  Pawnee.  He  contended 
that  it  had  no  authority  to  do  so  without 
his  consent.  The  lawmakers  thus  left 


352    Five  American  Politicians 

alone,  abandoned  themselves  to  a  carnival 
of  vicious  legislation.  They  passed  laws 
punishing  with  death  anyone  who  should  aid 
a  runaway  slave,  or  should  entice  a  slave 
away  from  his  master,  or  should  bring  into 
Kansas,  from  any  state,  a  slave  against  his 
master's  will.  To  deny,  by  spoken  or  writ 
ten  word,  the  right  to  hold  slaves  in  the 
territory,  they  made  punishable  by  impris 
onment  for  two  years,  with  hard  labor. 

These  excesses  drove  the  free-state  men 
to  desperation.  Dr.  Robinson  sent  to 
Thayer  for  rifles.  His  followers  he  coun 
selled  to  ignore  utterly  the  territorial  gov 
ernment,  and  give  obedience  alone  to  the 
representative  of  the  national  government, 
in  the  territory.  He  planned  a  constitu 
tional  convention  which  should  frame  a  con 
stitution,  and  form  the  basis  of  a  free-state 
government.  This  convention  met  in  To- 
peka  on  the  23rd  of  October,  1855.  Its  con 
stitution  forbade  slavery  within  the  state 
after  July  4,  1857.  This  instrument  was 
ratified  by  1731  votes,  while  only  46  votes 
were  cast  against  it.  The  pro-slavery  men 
did  not  vote.  In  January,  1856,  the  free- 
state  people  held  their  election  and  chose 
Dr.  Robinson  for  governor,  and  a  legisla 
ture  in  consonance  with  their  constitution. 

There  were  now  two  governemnts,  a  terri 
torial  and  a  free-state;  two  governors,  one 
appointed  by  the  President,  the  other  elected 
by  the  free-state  electorate;  two  legisla- 


Stephen  A.  Douglas          353 

tures,  one  foisted  into  power  by  the  border 
ruffians,  the  other  chosen  by  the  free-state 
faction.  Kansas  was  having  her  full  meas 
ure  of  self-government. 

The  free-state  legislature  met  in  March, 
1856.  Its  principal  business  was  the  pre 
paring  of  a  memorial,  praying  congress  for 
admission  under  the  Topeka  constitution, 
and  the  election  of  two  United  States  sena 
tors.  Governor  Robinson  advised  modera 
tion,  and  cautioned  his  followers  not  to  do 
anything  hostile  to  the  general  government, 
"or  the  territorial  government  while  it  shall 
remain  with  the  sanction  of  congress." 

The  tension  was  now  so  tightly  drawn 
that  it  required  only  a  trifling  event  to  snap 
it.  A  quarrel  over  a  land  claim  between  a 
pro-slavery  and  a  free-state  man  resulted 
in  the  murder  of  the  latter.  His  friends  ga 
thered  on  the  spot  of  the  crime,  and  swore 
vengeance.  Especially  threatening  was  the 
attitude  of  Jacob  Bronson  against  one  Buck 
ley,  whom  he  called  the  instigator  of  the 
murder.  Buckley  had  a  peace  warrant 
sworn  out  against  Bronson.  The  territorial 
sheriff,  Jones,  of  Douglas  county,  arrested 
Bronson  and  started  for  Lecompton  with 
the  prisoner.  As  they  wrere  nearing  Law 
rence,  a  body  of  free-state  men  rescued 
Bronson.  The  sheriff  retreated  to  the  bor 
der,  called  his  Missouri  pals  to  his  aid,  and  re 
ported  the  unlawful  rescue  to  the  territorial 
governor.  The  militia,  composed  mostly  of 

23 


354    Five  American  Politicians 

border  ruffians,  was  summoned  to  march 
upon  Lawrence  and  capture  the  culprits 
who  had  rescued  Bronson.  The  people  of 
the  threatened  town  appointed  a  committee 
of  safety,  and  sent  emissaries  to  Governor 
Shannon,  to  apprise  him  of  the  facts. 
When  he  learned  that  the  rescue  had  not 
taken  place  in  Lawrence,  nor  by  residents  of 
the  town,  nor  at  their  instigation  or  conni 
vance,  he  hastened  to  Lawrence  himself  and 
negotiated  a  treaty  wherein  it  was  stipulated 
by  the  townsfolk  that  they  would  not  resist 
legal  process,  would  aid  in  enforcing  the 
laws,  and  the  governor  agreed  not  to  call 
upon  any  non-residents  of  Kansas  for  aid. 
The  Missourians,  yielding  to  the  personal 
entreaties  of  the  governor,  dispersed  to  their 
homes,  and  peace  seemed  assured* 

But  Sheriff  Jones  learned  that  some  of 
the  Bronson  rescuers  had  returned  to  Law 
rence.  He  forthwith  attempted  to  serve 
summons  on  S.  W.  Wood,  but  a  great  crowd 
gathered  and  made  the  escape  of  the  refu 
gee  possible.  The  next  day  the  sheriff  tried 
to  arrest  S.  F.  Tappan,  and  received  a  slap 
in  the  face  for  his  effort.  The  Governor 
sent  a  company  of  United  States  troops 
from  Fort  Leavenworth  to  aid  the  sheriff, 
but  when  they  reached  Lawrence,  the  mis 
creants  had  disappeared.  The  soldiers 
pitched  their  tents  outside  the  village.  Dur 
ing  the  night  some  villainous  bigot  sneaked 
into  the  sheriff's  tent  and  shot  him.  The 


Stephen  A.  Douglas          355 

wound  was  not  fatal  to  the  sheriff,  but  it 
was  deadly  to  the  free-state  cause. 

The  ire  of  the  Missourians  was  inflamed 
to  white  heat;  the  federal  justice  Lecanpte 
charged  the  grand  jury  investigating  the 
crime  that  resistance  to  federal  process  is 
treason,  punishable  by  death;  the  general 
government  at  Washington  denounced  the 
crime  in  flamboyant  language;  the  friends 
of  Free  Kansas  were  humiliated  throughout 
the  north.  Nor  could  the  disclaimers  of  the 
people  of  Lawrence  neutralize  the  burning 
acid  of  these  attacks.  They  sent  apologies 
to  the  territorial  governor;  they  hunted 
the  criminal,  and  offered  a  reward  of 
five  hundred  dollars  for  his  apprehension. 
It  was  of  no  avail.  The  grand  jury  found 
indictments  against  the  leading  citizens  of 
Lawrence,  including  Dr.  Robinson,  and  the 
editors  of  the  two  local  newspapers.  These 
indictments  were  placed  in  the  hands  of  the 
United  States  marshal,  Donalson,  for  ser 
vice.  All  except  three  of  the  men  gave 
themselves  into  the  marshal's  custody.  It 
was  the  earnest  desire  of  the  villagers  to 
obey  the  laws.  But  the  marshal  was  bent 
upon  finding  cause  for  attack.  He  issued 
a  proclamation  calling  on  all  "the  law-abid 
ing  citizens  of  the  territory  to  appear  at  Le- 
compton  as  soon  as  possible,  and  in  numbers 
sufficient  for  the  proper  execution  of  the 
law."  The  border  raiders  knew  what  this 
meant.  They  came  by  the  hundreds.  They 


356    Five  American  Politicians 

terrorized  the  neighborhood  of  Lawrence, 
and  camped  on  the  prairie  just  outside  the 
village.  The  frightened  people  turned  in 
vain  to  their  governor,  imploring  that  he 
use  the  United  States  troops  to  protect  their 
property.  When  he  was  finally  told  that 
they  would  be  compelled  to  defend  their 
rights  with  the  force  of  arms,  and  that  this 
meant  war,  he  replied:  "War  then  it  is,  by 
God!" 

And  war  it  was.  The  horde  swooped  into 
Lawrence,  the  printing  presses  were  demol 
ished,  the  hotel  burned  to  the  ground,  the 
churches  pillaged,  and  even  homes  given  to 
the  flames.  Territorial  sovereignty  became 
the  sovereignty~"of'the  fire-brand. 

On  the  night  of  May  24th  John  Brown 
avenged  the  sacking  of  Lawrence.  With 
a  half  dozen  members  of  his  family  and  one 
or  two  others,  he  went  to  the  settlement  of 
Dutch  Henry's  crossing  on  Pottawattomie 
creek.  There  he  dragged  five  innocent  men 
from  their  beds  and  hacked  them  into  pieces 
with  cutlasses.  Henceforth  he  was  known 
as  "  Pottawattomie  Brown/'  and  his  name 
has  been  woven  into  song  and  story.  To 
those  who  calmly  read  the  brutal  record  of 
his  fiendish  frenzy  he  must  appear  as  an 
arch-criminal,  for  to  robbery  he  added  ar 
son,  to  arson  murder,  and  to  murder  treason. 
And  all  under  the  cloak  of  freedom!  Thus 
the  lawlessness  of  the  border  ruffian  found 
its  peer  in  the  lawlessness  of  the  insane  bigot. 


Stephen  A.  Douglas          357 

For  every  Sheriff  Jones  there  was  a  John 
Brown,  and  for  every  sacking  of  Lawrence 
there  was  a  Pottawattomie  massacre. 

The  struggle  between  the  pro-slavery  and 
free-state  men  became  a  free-for-all  guerilla 
warfare.  Battles  were  fought  at  Black  Jack 
and  Bull  Creek.  Ossawattomie  was  burned, 
isolated  farms  pillaged.  Missourians  rushed 
in  from  the  east  to  save  the  state  for  slavery, 
lowans  rushed  in  from  the  north  to  main 
tain  the  cause  of  free  labor.  Upon  the 
fields  of  Kansas  these  determined  forces  met 
until  the  shock  of  battle  at  last  aroused  the 
national  government,  and  federal  soldiers 
under  a  new  and  able  governor,  J.  M.  Geary, 
put  an  end  to  this  bloody  fiasco  of  home  rule. 
The  military  strife  was  succeeded  by  a  civil 
struggle  before  Kansas  could  be  admitted 
to  the  union. 

President  Buchanan,  soon  after  his  in 
auguration,  sent  Robert  J.  Walker,  of  Miss 
issippi,  as  governor,  and  F.  P.  Stanton,  of 
Tennessee,  as  secretary  to  the  territory. 
These  were  wise  and  honest  men,  whose  care 
ful  guidance  helped  the  conservative  free- 
state  men,  and  the  law-abiding  pro-slavery 
element  over  the  threshold  of  statehood. 
The  pro-slavery  men  called  a  convention  to 
convene  at  Lecompton  to  frame  a  constitu 
tion.  This  instrument  contained  an  article 
guaranteeing  the  right  of  property  in  slaves 
already  within  the  territory.  Another  clause 
provided  for  slavery  as  a  permanent  institu- 


35$    Five  American  Politicians 

tion  in  the  state.  The  plan  of  the  conven 
tion  was  to  submit  this  latter  provision  to 
the  people.  They  were  not  to  have  an  op 
portunity  to  vote  in  toto  in  the  constitution ; 
hence  they  must  have  slavery,  either  as  a 
permanent  institution  or  as  a  continuation 
of  an  existing  institution. 

Meanwhile  the  governor  had  guaranteed 
the  free-state  men  a  fair  and  honest  election. 
They  had  taken  a  careful  census  of  the  terri 
tory,  and  found  their  side  in  a  large  majority. 
An  honest  election  meant  the  capture  of  the 
territorial  legislature,  and,  on  October  5, 

1857,  this   was   accomplished,   though  the 
governor  had  to  throw  out  the  votes  in  sev 
eral  eastern  counties  because  the  Missouri- 
ans  had  cast  ten  times  as  many  votes  as 
there  were  inhabitants. 

The  free-state  men  convened  this  new 
territorial  legislature  and  resolved  to  sub 
mit  the  whole  of  the  Lecompton  constitution 
to  the  people  on  the  fourth  day  of  the  follow 
ing  January.  But  the  pro-slavery  men  had 
fixed  December  21  as  their  election  day, 
and  accordingly  on  that  day  6266  votes 
were  cast  for  the  constitution  with  slavery 
a  permanent  institution,  and  about  600  for 
the  constitution  without  slavery  perma 
nently  fixed  upon  the  commonwealth. 
Nearly  one-half  of  the  votes  were  fraudulent, 
and  the  free-state  men  refused  to  vote  at  all. 

Two  elections  were  fixed  for  January  4, 

1858.  One  was  ordered  by  the  territorial 


Stephen  A.  Douglas          359 

government,  upon  the  whole  of  the  Lecomp- 
ton  constitution,  and  the  other  fixed  by  the 
Lecompton  constitution  itself  for  the  election 
of  state  officers.  The  free-state  men  carried 
both  of  these  elections.  They  cast  over  ten 
thousand  votes  against  the  Lecompton  con 
stitution,  and  elected  a  full  quota  of  officers 
under  the  very  constitution  they  rejected. 

The  Lecompton  constitution  was,  however, 
sent  to  Washington  in  spite  of  this  overwhelm 
ing  rejection.  While  congress  was  struggling 
with  the  measure,  the  free-state  people,  fear 
ing  lest  the  national  government  might  foist 
this  unwelcome  constitution  upon  them, 
called  a  third  constitutional  convention,  and 
framed  a  third  constitution,  and  the  people 
adopted  it  by  three  thousand  votes. 

There  were  now,  in  poor  Kansas,  three 
legislatures,  the  territorial,  the  Topeka, 
and  the  Lecompton;  three  constitutions, 
the  Topeka,  the  Lecompton,  and  the  consti 
tution  of  1858.  The  free-state  people  con 
trolled  all  the  legislatures,  and  had  adopted 
the  first  and  the  last  constitution.  An  un 
questioned  majority  of  the  people  of  the  ter 
ritory  had  rejected  the  Lecompton  constitu 
tion.  But  congress  was  not  satisfied.  An 
other  vote  upon  the  Lecompton  constitu 
tion  was  ordered,  and  for  the  second  time  it 
was  rejected  by  eleven  thousand  votes,  out 
of  thirteen  thousand. 

Here  ended  the  struggle  for  Kansas.  It 
brought  retribution  upon  the  south  for  the 


360    Five  American  Politicians 

repeal  of  the  compromise;  shame  upon  the 
north  for  sanctioning  the  deeds  of  rad 
ical  fanatics  like  John  Brown,  and  disap 
pointment  to  all,  in  its  bitter  object  lessons 
of  the  failure  of  home  rule.  And  to  the 
world  it  revealed  the  determination  of  slav 
ery  and  the  unrelenting  ardor  of  free  labor. 
In  two  short  years  the  experience  of  Kan 
sas  became  the  bitter  experience  of  the  na 
tion.  And  who  foresaw  the  prophecy  in 
this  unique,  tragic  struggle?  Not  the  Pres 
ident.  The  shedding  of  blood  had  indeed 
aroused  him  to  issue  a  proclamation  char 
acterizing  the  efforts  of  the  free-state  men 
as  "an  attempted  insurrection,"  and  calling 
upon  all  law-abiding  citizens  of  other  states 
and  territories  to  keep  their  hands  off  from 
Kansas,  and  commanding  all  residents  of 
Kansas  to  obey  the  law.  He  had  seen  only 
one  side  of  the  struggle.  Not  congress, 
for  it  dallied  with  the  Topeka  consti 
tution  and  sent  the  Lecompton  docu 
ment  back  for  a  third  election.  The  senate 
had  witnessed  the  brutal  attack  of  Brooks 
upon  Sumner.  The  house  had  merely 
voted  a  mild  censure  upon  its  recreant  mem 
ber,  Brooks.  Not  the  Supreme  Court.  In 
the  Dred  Scott  case  it  floundered  around  in 
the  uncertainties  of  the  constitutional  aspects 
of  slavery  extension.  It  seemed  to  adjudi 
cate  a  multitude  of  things,  but  decided  only 
that  a  negro,  descended  from  a  slave  mother, 
was  not  a  citizen  of  the  United  States,  nor 


Stephen  A.  Douglas          361 

indeed  could  be.  Nor  did  Stephen  A.  Doug 
las  read  the  prophecy  that  the  fulfilment  of 
his  policy  of  popular  sovereignty  had  writ 
ten  in  flaming  letters  across  the  limitless 
prairies  of  Kansas. 

But  Douglas  remained  true  to  his  theory. 
While  the  southern  Democrats  repudiated 
it,  and  claimed  that  the  Dred  Scott  decision 
had  decided  that  neither  congress  nor  the 
territorial  legislatures  had  the  right  or  the 
power  to  exclude  slavery  from  the  territories. 
Not  only  this,  but  they  further  insisted  that 
they  had  the  right  to  take  slaves  into  the 
territories,  and  demanded  the  protection  of 
the  federal  government  for  their  slave  prop 
erty  in  the  territories. 

Thus,  while  Douglas  was  developing  a 
theory  on  the  "  dividing  line  between  fed 
eral  and  local  authority/'  and  the  people  of 
Kansas  were  working  out,  in  blood  and  an 
guish,  their  own  salvation  under  this  theory, 
the  southern  democrats  were  pushing  this 
dividing  line  farther  and  farther  away  from 
the  national  capitol,  until  it  became  a  van 
ishing  point  in  the  dim  horizon.  Here  JJbm 
Douglas  Democrats  and  southern  Democrats 
came  to  the  parting  of  the  ways.  How  por 
tent  for  the  nation  was  this  parting  -none 
of  them  foresaw. 

We  must  now  recur  to  Douglas's  political 
fortunes.  Douglas  was  very  ambitious  to 
become  President.  This  ambition  fastened 


362    Five  American  Politicians 

itself  upon  him  in  its  virulent  form.  He  re 
sorted  to  the  usual  methods  employed  by 
politicians  to  bring  themselves  into  promi 
nence.  He  posed  and  planned  and  jour 
neyed;  he  displayed  his  talents;  he  spoke 
to  vast  throngs ;  he  made  friends  with  influ 
ential  journals  and  leading  men;  he  was  al 
ways  lavish  with  good-fellowship  and  sym 
pathy.  But  Douglas  did  not  compromise 
his  convictions.  He  did  not  straddle  the 
Great  Issue.  It  was  his  uncompromising 
attitude  on  the  question  of  home  rule  that 
estranged  him  from  the  south,  and  lost  him 
the  most  cherished  hope  of  his  heart. 

We  have  seen  that  Douglas  was  the  adored 
chieftain  of  young  men,  and  that  their  hot 
eagerness  for  his  promotion  proved  fatal  to 
Douglas  in  1852.  The  year  1856  should 
have  been  the  Douglas  year.  The  "Little 
Giant"  was  then  in  the  full  stature  of  his 
greatness.  His  popular-sovereignty  policy 
was  at  the  climax  of  its  popularity.  The 
southern  Democrats  were  not  yet  ready  for 
an  open  breach,  and  Douglas's  friends  had 
made  great  efforts  to  organize  his  following, 
and  send  favorable  delegations  to  the  con 
vention,  held  that  year  in  Cincinnati.  But 
it  was  not  to  be. 

There  were  four  candidates  before  the 
convention.  Oldest  in  years  and  experi 
ence  was  Lewis  Cass,  grim  old  war  horse  of 
Democracy,  talented,  patriotic,  uncompro 
mising,  independent.  He  had  been  the 


Stephen  A.  Douglas          363 

party's  candidate  in  1848;  had  sought  the 
nomination  again  in  1852,  and  now,  for  the 
last  time,  he  entered  the  race.  Next  in  the 
list  stood  Franklin  Pierce,  the  President. 
He  was  a  mild-mannered  New  Hampshire 
gentleman,  a  lawyer  of  ability,  a  soldier 
with  a  good  record,  an  orator  of  pleasing 
grace;  a  conservative,  well-meaning  man, 
with  no  conspicuous  ability  for  executive 
work.  Third  came  James  Buchanan,  of 
Pennsylvania;  a  courtly  gentleman  of  the 
old  school,  a  lawyer  of  some  note,  and  a 
statesman  whose  services  had  extended 
over  three  decades  in  congress  and  in  the 
diplomatic  corps.  These  years  of  public 
service  had  not  served  to  reveal  any  especial 
talent  for  statecraft.  His  was  that  conser 
vative,  non-aggressive,  uniform  mediocrity 
which  manipulating  politicians  love  to  find 
in  the  man  they  put  up  for  office.  Such  a 
man  possesses  political  utility.  And  finally 
Judge  Douglas  completed  the  list  of  rivals. 
Of  the  four,  he  stood  conspicuously  first  in 
ability,  and  in  general  popularity. 

You  will  at  once  see  that  the  convention 
of  1856  was  almost  a  replica  of  the  conven 
tion  of  1852.  The  same  candidates  were 
presented,  backed  by  the  same  influences. 
Franklin  Pierce's  name  was  withdrawn  after 
the  fourteenth  ballot,  and  his  support  went 
largely  to  Douglas.  There  were  two  hun 
dred  and  ninety-six  votes  in  the  convention. 
On  the  first  ballot  Buchanan  led  with  135  J 


364    Five  American  Politicians 

votes;  Pierce  had  122J;  Douglas  33,  and 
Cass  6.  After  the  withdrawal  of  Pierce  the 
ballot  stood:  Buchanan  168,  Douglas  122, 
Cass  5.  When  the  sixty-sixth  ballot  was 
announced,  Col.  Richardson,  of  Illinois, 
Douglas's  manager,  read  the  following  tele 
gram  from  his  chief: 

"Mr.  Buchanan  having  received  a  major 
ity  of  the  convention  is,  in  my  opinion,  en 
titled  to  the  nomination.  I  hope  my  friends 
will  give  effect  to  the  voice  of  the  majority 
of  the  party." 

The  wish  was  obeyed,  and  Buchanan  re 
ceived  the  nomination. 

There  is  every  reason  to  believe  that 
Douglas  acted  purely  in  the  interests  of 
party  harmony.  In  a  letter  to  Richardson, 
received  before  the  balloting  began,  Douglas 
said:  "From  the  telegraphic  reports  in 
the  newspapers  I  fear  that  an  embittered 
state  of  feeling  is  being  engendered  in 
the  convention,  which  may  endanger  the 
harmony  and  success  of  our  party.  I 
wish  you  and  all  my  friends  to  bear  in 
mind  that  I  have  a  thousandfold  more  anx 
iety  for  the  triumph  of  our  principles  than 
for  my  own  personal  elevation.  If  the  with 
drawal  of  my  name  will  contribute  to  the 
harmony  of  our  party,  or  the  success  of  our 
cause,  I  hope  you  will  not  hesitate  to  take 
the  step.  Especially  is  it  my  desire  that 
the  action  of  the  convention  will  embody 
and  express  the  wishes,  feelings  and  princi- 


Stephen  A.  Douglas          365 

pies  of  the  Democracy  of  the  republic;  and 
hence  if  Mr.  Pierce,  or  Mr.  Buchanan,  or  any 
other  statesman,  who  is  faithful  to  the  great 
issues  involved  in  the  contest,  shall  receive 
a  majority  of  the  convention,  I  earnestly 
hope  that  all  my  friends  will  unite  in  insur 
ing  him  two-thirds,  and  then  in  making  his 
nomination  unanimous.  Let  no  personal 
considerations  disturb  the  harmony  or  en 
danger  the  triumph  of  our  principles." 

This  is  magnanimous.  While  it  is  natur 
ally  partisan,  it  does  not  savor  of  the  rancor 
or  bitterness  of  a  small  man  who  fears  defeat. 
There  is  no  evidence  that  any  other  motive 
than  the  desire  of  the  triumph  of  his  prin 
ciples  prompted  Douglas  to  write  this  letter. 
His  subsequent  actions  testify  to  his  sin 
cerity.  He  entered  heartily  into  the  can 
vass.  But  the  two  men  could  not  remain 
friends.  Buchanan  tried  to  domineer,  and 
no  man  was  ever  able  to  drive  Douglas. 
After  the  election  Douglas  called  on  the 
President  to  protest  against  the  forcing  of 
the  Lecompton  constitution  upon  Kansas. 
Buchanan  insisted  in  writing  into  his  mes 
sage  a  recommendation  of  its  adoption. 
Senator  Douglas  said:  "If  you  do,  I  will 
denounce  it,  as  soon  as  it  is  read."  To  this 
the  President  hotly  retorted:  "Remember 
that  no  Democrat  ever  yet  differed  from  an 
administration  of  his  own  choice  without  be 
ing  crushed.  Beware  of  the  fate  of  Tall- 
mage  and  of  Rives."  "Mr.  President," 


366    Five  American  Politicians 

came  the  unhesitating  response,  "I  wish 
you  to  remember  that  General  Jackson  is 
dead!" 

A  careful  observer  might  have  discerned 
a  forecast  of  this  division  in  the  Cincinnati 
convention.  While  the  platform  was  a 
Douglas  document,  affirming  "  popular  sov 
ereignty  "  to  be  the  basis  of  true  democracy, 
the  convention  was  manipulated  by  south 
ern  men  whose  enthusiasm  for  Douglas's 
theory  of  home  rule  had  been  greatly  cooled 
by  the  practical  outcome  of  the  Kansas 
strife,  and  who  were  prepared  to  read  the 
most  radical  pro-slavery  principles  into  the 
Dred  Scott  decision.  Slidell,  a  crafty  south 
ern  radical,  was  the  principal  promoter  of 
Buchanan's  interest  on  the  floor  of  the  con 
vention.  It  was  the  almost  solid  vote  of  the 
south  that  gave  Buchanan  the  lead  in  the 
convention;  and'  to  his  election  only  four 
northern  states,  Pennsylvania,  New  Jer 
sey,  Illinois,  and  California,  contributed 
their  votes. 

The  first  national  Republican  convention 
met  in  Philadelphia  in  1856,  and  nominated 
General  John  C.  Fremont  for  President  and 
William  L.  Dayton  for  Vice  President. 
1,300,000  votes  were  cast  for  these  candi 
dates,  all  from  the  north.  Party  lines  were 
rapidly  merging  into  sectional  lines. 

If  the  southern  leaders  distrusted  Doug 
las,  they  had  every  reason  to  feel  gratified 
at  the  response  their  confidence  in  Buchanan 


Stephen  A.  Douglas          367 

called  forth.  If  they  feared  the  independ 
ence  of  the  doughty  champion  of  "  squatter 
sovereignty,"  they  could  implicitly  rely 
upon  the  ductility  of  their  President.  They 
led  him  at  will.  It  was  apparently  their  de 
sign  to  force  slavery  upon  Kansas  by  admit 
ting  the  state  under  the  Lecompton  consti 
tution. 

We  have  seen  that  the  free-state  people  re 
fused  to  vote  upon  the  sending  of  delegates 
to  the  Lecompton  convention,  and  that  they 
took  no  part  in  the  election  on  the  twenty- 
first  of  the  preceding  December,  because 
only  one  article  of  the  document  was  to  be 
voted  upon.  But  President  Buchanan,  in 
his  message  to  congress,  boldly  assumed 
that  the  one-sided  vote  upon  only  one  clause 
in  the  constitution  was  an  acceptance  of  the 
whole  by  the  entire  electorate.  And  he  fur 
thermore  advanced  the  surprising  doctrine 
that  it  had  "been  solemnly  adjudged  by  the 
highest  tribunal  known  to  our  laws,  that 
slavery  exists  in  Kansas  by  virtue  of  the 
constitution  of  the  United  States.  Kan 
sas,  therefore,  at  this  moment  is  as  much  a 
slave  state  as  Georgia  or  South  Carolina." 
This  became  the  orthodox  southern  inter 
pretation  of  the  Dred  Scott  decision. 

To  this  wild  length  Douglas  could  not  go. 
When  a  majority  of  his  committee  on  terri 
tories  brought  in  a  report  recommending 
the  admission  of  Kansas  under  the  Lecomp 
ton  constitution,  he  prepared  a  minority 


Five  American  Politicians 

report  that  showed  forth  most  vigorously 
and  clearly  that  that  constitution  was  not 
the  act  of  the  people  of  Kansas.  He  proved 
that  of  the  thirty-eight  counties  only  nine 
teen  had  been  represented  in  the  convention  ; 
that  not  even  the  widest  stretch  of  the  im 
agination  could  interpret  the  submission  of 
only  one  clause  of  the  constitution,  as  the 
submission  of  the  whole;  that  the  election 
of  December  21,  1857,  at  which  only  pro- 
slavery  men  voted,  and  which  ratified  the 
work  of  the  convention,  was  illegal,  having 
no  sanction  in  any  statute,  and  that  the  elec 
tion  of  January  4,  1858,  in  which  the  free- 
state  men  participated  and  overwhelmingly 
rejected  the  constitution,  was  lawful  and 
valid.  Douglas  did  not  deal  softly  with 
the  pro-slavery  men  in  this  report.  He  ac 
cused  them  of  conspiring  to  thwart  the  will 
of  the  people,  and  to  make  Kansas  a  slave 
state  no  matter  what  the  cost. 

This  frank  and  manly  statement  of  the 
facts,  made  by  the  leading  northern  Demo 
crat,  the  father  of  the  Kansas-Nebraska  bill, 
and  the  champion  of  popular  sovereignty, 
greatly  angered  the  administration.  The 
break  between  Douglas  and  the  President 
was  complete.  All  the  power  of  the  admin 
istration  was  turned  against  him.  The  de 
bate  on  the  committee  measure  was  fierce 
and  acrimonious,  as  only  a  factional  debate 
can  become.  Douglas  was  taunted  as  an 
Abolitionist,  a  Black  Republican,  a  traitor 


Stephen  A.  Douglas 


to  his  party.  He  never  displayed  his  brill 
iant  talents  to  better  advantage  than  in 
this  bitter  struggle  for  the  mastery  of  Kan 
sas.  Devotion  to  the  principle  of  popular 
sovereignty  inspired  him  to  magnificent  ef 
fort.  He  religiously  believed  that  the  per 
petuity  of  the  Union  depended  upon  this 
principle.  This  conviction  invested  all  of 
his  words  with  a  seriousness,  and  his  acts 
with  a  solemnity,  that  was  most  impressive. 
It  also  endowed  him  with  an  independence 
that  one  vainly  seeks  in  a  mere  politician. 

In  March,  Crittenden,  of  Kentucky, 
moved  a  substitute  for  -the  administration 
bill,  providing  that  the  Lecompton  constitu 
tion  be  at  once  submitted  to  the  people,  and, 
if  approved,  the  state  be  admitted  on  the 
proclamation  of  the  President.  If  rejected, 
a  convention  was  to  be  convened  for  the 
purpose  of  framing  a  new  constitution,  to  be 
submitted  to  the  people.  Unusual  precau 
tions  were  provided  in  the  bill  against  fraud 
ulent  voting,  the  vice  of  Kansas  at  that  time. 
This  bill  was  defeated  by  a  vote  of  24  to  34. 

The  debate  on  the  general  question  grew 
daily  in  violence  and  bitterness.  The  vote 
was  fixed  for  March  23rd.  On  the  evening 
of  the  22nd  Douglas  made  his  final  argument. 
It  was  one  of  his  best  speeches.  A  brilliant 
auditory  had  assembled  to  hear  him,  a 
crowd  that  overflowed  aisles  and  galleries; 
that  responded  to  the  seriousness  of  the  oc 
casion,  fully  realizing  the  gravity  of  the  sit- 


37°    Five  American  Politicians 

uation.  Douglas  began  by  reviewing  his 
career  in  congress,  proving  the  absolute  con 
sistency  of  his  course  in  adhering  unfalter 
ingly  to  the  great  ideal  of  local  autonomy 
and  the  equality  of  the  states.  He  then  re 
iterated  what  he  had  so  often  stated  in  the 
Kansas-Nebraska  debate,  that  the  compro 
mise  of  1850  had  virtually  repealed  that  of 
1820;  that  the  last  measure,  of  1850,  pro 
vided  a  rule  of  action  applicable  everywhere 
north  or  south  of  36°  30',  to  all  territories  we 
then  possessed,  or  ever  should  acquire. 
This  great  compromise,  he  maintained,  was 
a  final  settlement  of  the  vexed  question  of 
slavery,  only  on  the  condition  that  every 
territory  be  allowed  to  say  for  itself,  whether 
or  not,  it  desired  slavery.  To  the  compro 
mise  must  be  added  popular  sovereignty, 
to  make  the  solution  final.  This  rule  was  to 
be  fairly  applied  to  Kansas.  The  people 
were  to  decide.  But  the  Lecompton  consti 
tution  was  not  the  expressed  will  of  the  peo 
ple.  It  was  illegally  conceived  and  foisted 
upon  the  state  by  a  plotting  minority.  As 
he  neared  the  conclusion  of  his  speech  he 
flung  defiance  into  the  face  of  the  President, 
who  was  attempting  in  every  possible  man 
ner  to  prevent  Douglas's  reelection  to  the 
senate,  using  the  federal  patronage  of  Illi 
nois  as  a  lever  to  pry  Douglas  out  of  office. 
In  the  choice  between  popular  favor  or. ad 
herence  to  principle,  Douglas  never  hesi 
tated  a  moment.  Clear  as  a  clarion  call  his 


Stephen  A.  Douglas          371 

voice  resounded  through  the  senate  cham 
ber,  and  reechoed  throughout  the  land. 
"I  do  not  recognize  the  right  of  the  Presi 
dent  to  tell  me  my  duty  in  the  senate  cham 
ber.  When  the  time  comes  that  a  senator 
is  to  account  to  the  executive  and  not  to  his 
state,  what  becomes  of  the  sovereignty  of 
the  states?  Is  it  intended  to  brand  every 
Democrat  as  a  traitor  who  is  opposed  to  the 
Lecompton  constitution?  Come  what  may, 
I  intend  to  vote,  speak  and  act  according  to 
my  own  sense  of  duty.  I  have  no  vindica 
tion  to  make  of  my  course.  Let  it  speak  for 
itself.  Neither  the  frowns  of  favor  nor  the 
influence  of  patronage  will  change  my  action 
or  drive  me  from  my  principles.  I  stand 
immovably  upon  the  principles  of  state  sov 
ereignty,  upon  which  the  campaign  was 
fought  and  the  election  won.  I  will  stand 
by  the-  constitution  of  the  United  States 
with  all  its  compromises,  and  perform  all  my 
obligations  under  it.  If  I  shall  be  driven 
into  private  life,  it  is  a  fate  that  has  no  ter 
rors  for  me.  I  prefer  private  life,  preserv 
ing  my  own  self-respect,  to  abject  and  ser 
vile  submission  to  executive  will.  If  the  al 
ternative  be  private  life,  or  servile  obedience 
to  executive  will,  I  am  prepared  to  retire. 
Official  position  has  no  charms  for  me, 
when  deprived  of  freedom  of  thought  and 
action." 

The  senate  stood  by  the    President.     It 
passed  the  Lecompton  bill  by  a  vote  of  33  to 


372    Five  American  Politicians 

25.  The  house  stood  by  the  valiant  Doug 
las  and  rejected  the  measure. 

Montgomery,  of  Pennsylvania,  introduced 
a  bill  that  was  the  homologue  of  the  Critten- 
den  bill,  and  this  passed  the  house  by  a  vote 
of  120  to  112.  The  senate  refused  concur 
rence.  The  conference  committee  of  both 
houses  compromised  upon  a  plan  called  the 
English  bill.  The  plan  was  to  let  the  people 
of  Kansas  vote  upon  the  acceptance  or  re 
jection  of  a  grant  of  public  lands.  If  the 
people  rejected  the  grant,  the  vote  was  to  be 
interpreted  as  a  rejection  of  the  Lecompton 
constitution.  If  they  accepted  it,  the  con 
stitution  was  to  be  deemed  adopted.  If  the 
constitution  should  be  rejected  then  Kansas 
should  remain  a  territory  until  it  had  suf 
ficient  population  to  entitle  her  to  one  repre 
sentative  in  congress. 

Douglas  refused  to  give  his  support  to  this 
cowardly  dodge.  In  the  course  of  his  dis 
cussion  he  said:  "Sir,  I  had  hoped  that 
when  we  came  finally  to  adjust  this  ques 
tion,  we  should  have  been  able  to  employ 
language  so  clear,  so  unequivocal,  that  there 
would  have  been  no  room  for  doubt  as  to 
what  is  meant,  and  what  the  line  of  policy 
was  to  be  in  the  future.  Are  these  people 
left  free  to  take  or  reject  the  Lecompton  con 
stitution?  If  they  accept  the  land  grant, 
they  are  compelled  to  take  it.  If  they  re 
ject  the  land  grant,  they  are  out  of  the 


Stephen  A.  Douglas          373 

He  cracked  the  lash  of  logic  over  the  heads 
of  his  colleagues,  for  holding  out  a  bounty 
"to  influence  these  people  to  vote  for  this 
Lecompton  constitution,"  and  for  the  at 
tempted  coercion  in  compelling  Kansas  to 
accept  the  constitution  or  remain  out  of  the 
union  until  she  had  attained  a  population 
sufficient  to  entitle  her  to  a  congressman  ac 
cording  to  the  existing  ratio. 

The  bill  passed  both  houses,  and,  as  we 
have  seen,  Kansas  overwhelmingly  rejected 
the  Lecompton  constitution  and  its  attend 
ant  bribe  of  public  lands. 

The  defeat  of  the  Lecompton  bill  was 
looked  upon  as  a  triumph  for  Douglas,  a 
triumph  that  cost  him  the  friendship  of  the 
southern  Democrats.  As  long  as  they  held 
Buchanan  in  the  hollow  of  their  hand,  they 
could  exert  a  powerful  influence  against 
Douglas  in  the  north.  It  was  to  regain  the 
undisputed  sway  over  the  northern  Demo 
crats,  as  well  as  to  place  himself  in  a  position 
to  command  the  presidential  nomination  in 
1860,  that 'Douglas  left  the  scenes  of  his  bit 
ter  contest  in  Washington  to  engage  in  the 
canvass  for  his  reelection  to  the  senate. 
When  he  reached  his  home  the  most  signifi 
cant  and  earnest  struggle  of  his  life  awaited 
him. 

Chicago  welcomed  him  home  as  a  capital 
receives  its  prince.  A  parade  of  thirty  thou 
sand  men  escorted  him  through  the  principal 


374    Five  American  Politicians 

streets  to  the  Tremont  house,  where  he 
spoke  from  a  balcony  to  the  assembled  thou 
sands.  This,  the  opening  speech  of  the  cam 
paign,  was  at  once  the  exordium  and  the  out 
line  of  the  one  hundred  and  thirty  speeches 
that  he  made  during  the  one  hundred  days 
of  the  canvass.  The  text  of  his  speech  had 
been  spoken  for  him  some  three  weeks  be 
fore,  when,  on  June  15th,  Abraham  Lincoln 
had  accepted  the  Republican  nomination 
for  senator. 

Abraham  Lincoln  and  Stephen  A.  Doug 
las  were  old  time  rivals.  They  had  been  ad 
mitted  to  the  bar  together,  they  had  com 
peted  for  political  favor  in  the  same  com 
munities,  they  had  practiced  law  in  the  same 
courts  on  the  same  circuits,  they  had  been 
rivals  for  the  hand  of  the  same  maiden,  and 
had  been  opponents  in  every  political  strug 
gle  since  the  days  of  Jackson.  Doug}sS"rla;d 
become  famous,  Lincoln  had_iemained  ob 
scure;  Douglas  was~"~ther^eader  of  a  great 
national  party,  Lincoln  was  the  local  organ 
izer  of  a  new  and  untried  party;  Douglas 
was  the  proud  creator  of  the  policy  of  popu 
lar  sovereignty,  not  caring  "whether  the 
people  voted  slavery  up  or  voted  it  down/' 
Lincoln  was^the  humble  commentator  on  the 
text  of  the  great  declaration  that  "  all  men 
are  created  free  and  equal." 
Y  Now  these  rivals  met  in  a  contest  that  was 
oestined  to  become  one  of  the  great  and  glo 
rious  events  in  our  national  history.  It  was 


Stephen  A.  Douglas          375 

not  a  rivalry  of  persons  but  of  principles. 
"Compromise  and  conviction  met  upon  the 
same  platform  and  struggled  for  the  mas 
tery.  All  semblance  of  a  local  contest  im 
mediately  vanished,  and  the  eyes  of  the  na 
tion  were  upon  the  rivals;  their  every  word 
was  caught  up  by  eager  ears,  and  every  pa 
per  detailed  their  speech  and  action.  Illi 
nois  became  the  political  and  moral  battle 
ground  of  all  the  land. 

The  rivals  were  opposites,  not  alone  in  po 
litical  convictions,  but  in  methods,  in  phys 
iognomy,  in  mental  traits  and  in  moral  con 
ceptions.  Providence  destined  each  to  be 
the  perfect  embodiment  of  a  principle,  and 
nature  had  prepared  each  man  for  his  ideal. 
Douglas,  undersized,  well  knit  and  erect, 
his  handsome  head  well  poised,  graceful  of 
gesture  and  lordly  of  mein;  Lincoln,  tall, 
gaunt,  loosely  put  together,  awkward,  called 
himself  "the  homeliest  man  in  Illinois." 
Douglas  magnetic  beyond  resistance,  prepos 
sessing,  good-natured,  impulsive;  Lincoln 
humble,  straight-forward,  retiring,  uncom 
plaining.  Douglas  a  master  of  sophistry 
and  fallacy,  resorting  to  tricks  and  illu 
sions,  doing  everything  to  win;  Lin 
coln  utterly  incapable  of  deception,  and 
so  permeated  with  the  truth  that  he 
feared  misrepresentation  more  than  defeat, 
Douglas  in  speech  utterly  destitute  of  wit, 
or  of  figure,  he  never  quoted,  neither  did  he 
hesitate,  but  his  volubility  was  as  unfailing 


376    Five  American  Politicians 

as  the  rushing  waters  of  a  mountain  torrent. 
His  mastery  over  the  audience  was  due  to 
this  irresistible  onrush  of  words,  and  to  his 
power  to  hide  the  real  issue,  to  magnify 
small  points  into  the  ludicrous,  to  create 
whole  platoons  of  straw  men  out  of  mere 
phrases  from  his  opponents'  speech,  and  then 
proceed  to  demolish  them,  with  stupendous 
gusto,  to  the  huge  delight  of  his  hearers. 
Douglas  was  superficial.  He  never  fath 
omed  the  meaning  of  the  Dred  Scott  decision: 
he  was  artificial,  he  never  thought  through 
the  history  of  our  country.  What  a  contrast 
to  Lincoln,  who  was  nothing  if  not  genuine, 
who  was  so  profound,  that  his  speeches  will 
remain  a  perennial  well-spring  of  civic  and 
moral  wisdom !  And  in  speech,  what  a  con 
trast!  Lincoln  was  slow;  his  words  were 
all  carefully  measured  before  they  were 
joined  to  his  sentences,  and  his  precepts  were 
scrupulously  weighed  before  they  were  spo 
ken.  He  possessed  the  humor  of  Aesop, 
the  wisdom  of  Franklin,  the  imagery  of 
Burns,  the  diction  of  Emerson,  the  learning 
of  Bacon,  the  morality  of  Paul.  Douglas, 
voluble,  deceptive,  onrushing;  Lincoln  logi 
cal,  truthful,  deliberative.  These  rivals, 
these  opposites  in  temperament  and  in  meth 
od  and  in  purpose,  met  in  the  arena  of  de 
bate  and  crystallized  the  political  sentiment 
of  the  Union. 

I  have  said  that  Lincoln  furnished  Doug 
las  with  the  text,  in  his  speech  accepting  the 


Stephen  A.  Douglas          377 

nomination.  This  was  perhaps  the  most 
carefully  prepared  speech  Lincoln  ever  made. 
He  had  taken  many  weeks  to  prepare  it, 
writing  every  sentence  on  loose  scraps  of  pa 
per.  These  he  put  together  with  great  care. 
The  opening  paragraph  of  the  speech  is 
now  as  familiar  to  all  readers  as  the  opening 
sentences  of  the  Declaration  of  Independ 
ence,  or  the  preamble  of  the  constitution. 
It  contained  a  prophecy  that  startled  the 
north;  a  prophecy  that  Lincoln  himself 
should  be  the  means  of  fulfilling.  He  said: 
"If  we  could  first  know  where  we  are  and 
whither  we  are  tending,  we  could  better 
judge  what  to  do  and  how  to  do  it.  We  are 
now  far  into  the  fifth  year  since  a  policy 
was  initiated,  with  the  avowed  object  and 
confident  purpose  of  putting  an  end  to  slav 
ery  agitation.  Under  the  operation  of  that 
policy,  that  agitation  has  not  only  not 
ceased,  but  has  constantly  augmented.  In 
my  opinion  it  will  not  cease  until  a  crisis 
shall  have  been  reached  and  passed.  'A 
house  divided  against  itself  cannot  stand.' 
I  believe  this  government  cannot  endure 
permanently,  half  slave  and  half  free.  I  do 
not  expect  the  Union  to  be  dissolved.  I  do 
not  expect  the  house  to  fall,  but  I  do  expect 
it  will  cease  to  be  divided.  It  will  become 
all  one  thing  or  all  the  other.  Either  the 
opponents  of  slavery  will  arrest  the  further 
sprea4  of  it,  and  place  it  where  the  public 
mind  shall  rest  in  the  belief  that  it  is  in  the 


Five  American  Politicians 

course  of  ultimate  extinction,  or  its  advo 
cates  will  push  it  forward  till  it  shall  become 
alike  lawful  in  all  states,  old  as  well  as  new, 
nprth  as  well  as  south/' 
yfxThis  remarkable  exordium  he  followed 
rwith  a  careful,  logical  analysis  of  the  polit 
ical  conditions  that  prompted  the  repeal  of 
the  Missouri  compromise,  the  Kansas  con 
flict,  and  the  Dred  Scott  decision.  "Put 
this  and  that  together,"  he  proceeds,  "and 
we  have  another  nice  little  niche,  which  we 
may  ere  long  see  filled  with  another  supreme 
court  decision,  declaring  that  the  constitu 
tion  of  the  United  States  does  not  permit  a 
state  to  exclude  slavery  from  its  limits.  * 

*  *  Such  a  decision  is  all  that  slavery  now 
lacks  of  being  alike  lawful  in  all  the  states. 

*  *  *    We  shall  lie  down  pleasantly  dream 
ing  that  the  people  of  Missouri  are  on  the 
verge  of  making  their  state   free;    and   we 
shall  awake  to  the  reality  instead,  that  the 
Supreme  Court  has    made  Illinois    a    slave 
state." 

The  people  of  the  north  were  awaiting  this 
speech.  They  knew  not  who  would  utter  it/ 
or  when  it  would  be  given  voice.  They 
only  knew  that  the  inexorable  goad  of  the 
slave-master  was  driving  northern  sentiment 
into  the  conviction  that  this  government 
could  not  "endure  permanently  half-slave 
and  half-free."  It  was  decreed  by  Provi 
dence  that  humble,  honest,  gifted  Abraham 
Lincoln  should  utter  these  words  under  con- 


Stephen  A.  Douglas          379 

ditions  that  gave  him  a  universal  hearing, 
and  with  such  care,  such  logic,  and  simplic 
ity,  that  at  once  they  became  the  creed  of 
the  northern  conscience. 

This  was  the  first  speech  of  the  Lincoln- 
Douglas  campaign  of  1858.  It  was  this 
speech  that  Douglas  essayed  to  answer  from 
the  balcony  of  the  Tremont  House  on  the 
night  of  his  princely  reception.  Lincoln  sat 
behind  him  while  he  delivered  his  reply.  It 
was  a  perfectly  characteristic  speech,  and 
must  be  read  through  in  order  to  under 
stand  the  clever,  catch-penny  style,  the 
flippant  bombast  and  the  brilliant  manoeu- 
ver  of  the  skilful  Douglas.  Only  the  barest 
sketch  can  be  given  here. 

The  Senator  began  by  setting  himself 
right  in  the  Lecompton  controversy.  He 
aroused  wild  enthusiasm  when  he  said  that 
he  opposed  Buchanan,  not  because  the  Le 
compton  constitution  was  a  pro-slavery  doc 
ument,  but  because  it  was  not  submitted 
to  the  people.  "I  denied  the  right  of  con 
gress  to  force  it  upon  them,  either  as  a  free 
state  or  a  slave  state.  I  deny  the  right  of 
congress  to  force  a  slave-holding  state  upon 
an  unwilling  people.  I  deny  their  right  to 
force  a  free  state  upon  an  unwilling  people . 
I  deny  their  right  to  force  a  good  thing  upon 
a  people  who  are  unwilling  to  receive  it. 
The  great  principle  is  the  right  of  every 
community  to  judge  and  decide  for  itself 
whether  a  thing  is  right  or  wrong,  whether 


380    Five  American  Politicians 

it  will  be  good  or  evil  for  them  to  adopt  it, 
and  the  right  of  free  action,  the  right  of  free 
thought,  the  right  of  free  judgment  upon 
the  question  is  dearer  to  every  true  Ameri 
can  than  any  other  under  a  free  govern 
ment.  *  *  *  Whenever  you  put  a  limi 
tation  upon  the  right  of  any  people  to  decide 
what  laws  they  want,  you  have  destroyed 
the  fundamental  principle  of  self-govern 
ment.'  '  ' '  Popular  sovereignty  "  appealed  to 
his  auditors.  It  was  the  ample  shield  that 
covered  the  weak  points  in  his  armor. 

Turning  to  Lincoln's  speech  of  acceptance, 
he  read  the  opening  paragraph  quoted  above, 
and  proceeded  at  once  to  divert  the  public 
mind  from  Lincoln's  fundamental  assump 
tion  that  slavery  is  a  moral  wrong.  He  did 
this  very  skilfully,  paraphrasing  the  noble 
sentiment  of  the  "house  divided  against 
itself,"  and  magnifying  a  bare  implication 
into  a  major  premise.  After  reading  Lin 
coln's  words  he  proceeded:  "In  other 
words,  Mr.  Lincoln  asserts  as  a  fundamental 
principle  of  this  government  that  there  must 
be  uniformity  in  the  local  laws  and  domestic 
institutions  of  each  and  all  the  states  in  the 
Union ;  and  he  therefore  invites  all  the  non- 
slave-holding  states  to  band  together,  organize 
as  one  body,  and  make  war  upon  slavery  in 
Kentucky,  upon  slavery  in  Virginia,  upon 
slavery  in  the  Carolinas,  upon  slavery  in  all 
the  slaveholding  states  in  this  Union  and  to 
persevere  in  that  war  until  it  shall  be  exter- 


Stephen  A.  Douglas          381 

minated.  *  *  In  other  words,  Mr.  Lin 
coln  advocates  boldly  and  clearly  a  war  of 
sections,  a  war  of  the  north  against  the 
south,  of  the  free  states  against  the  slave 
states."  What  could  be  more  deft  than  this 
flank  movement,  putting  on  Lincoln  the  sus 
picion  of  treason? 

In  answer  to  Lincoln's  analysis  of  the 
Dred  Scott  decision  he  resorts  to  similar 
demagogery.  "I  have  no  warfare  to  make 
on  the  Supreme  Court/'  he  shouted,  "  either 
on  account  of  that  or  any  other  decision 
which  they  have  pronounced  from  that 
bench.  *  *  •  *  What  security  have  you 
for  your  property,  and  for  your  personal 
rights,  if  the  courts  are  not  upheld,  and  their 
decisions  respected  when  once  firmly  ren 
dered  by  the  highest  tribunal  known  to  the 
constitution?  *  *  I  am  opposed  to  this 
doctrine  of  Mr.  Lincoln,  by  which  he  pro 
poses  to  take  an  appeal  from  the  decision  of 
the  Supreme  Court  of  the  United  States 
upon  these  high  constitutional  questions,  to 
a  Republican  caucus.  *  *  *  I  am  a 
law-abiding  man.  I  will  sustain  the  consti 
tution  of  my  country  as  our  fathers  have 
made  it.  I  will  yield  obedience  to  the  laws, 
whether  I  like  them  or  not,  as  I  find  them  on 
the  statute  books." 

Lincoln's  reason  for  criticising  the  Dred 
Scott  decision  he  likewise  distorts  into  a 
misshapen  thing.  "He  objects  to  it  *  * 
because  it  deprives  the  negro  of  the  privil- 


382    Five  American  Politicians 

eges,  immunities  and  rights  of  citizenship, 
which  pertain,  according  to  that  decision, 
only  to  the  white  man."  And  this  the  prac 
ticed  debater  answers:  "I  am  free  to  say  to 
you  that  in  my  opinion  this  government  of 
ours  is  founded  on  a  white  basis.  It  was 
made  by  the  white  men,  for  the  benefit  of 
the  white  man,  to  be  administered  by  white 
men  in  such  manner  as  they  should  deter 
mine.  *  *  *  I  would  give  him  [the 
negro]  every  right  and  privilege  which  his 
capacity  would  enable  him  to  enjoy,  but 
*  *  each  state  must  decide  for  itself  the 
nature  and  extent  of  their  rights." 

And  he  thus  summarizes  the  issue :  "  Thus 
you  see,  my  fellow-citizens,  that  the  issues  be 
tween  Mr.  Lincoln  and  myself  *  *  * 
are  direct,  unequivocal,  and  irreconcilable. 
He  goes  for  uniformity  in  our  domestic  insti 
tutions,  for  a  war  of  sections,  until  one  or 
the  other  shall  be  subdued.  I  go  for  the 
great  principle  of  the  Kansas-Nebraska  Bill, 
the  right  of  the  people  to  decide  for  them 
selves." 

It  is  questionable  whether  Douglas  meant 
to  so  abort  the  logic  of  Lincoln  and  misrep 
resent  his  conclusions,  for  it  is  probable  that 
he  did  not  himself  understand  the  deep 
meaning  of  Lincoln's  philosophy,  and  it  is 
quite  certain  he  failed  to  comprehend  the 
real  significance  of  the  Dred  Scott  decision 
as  it  bore  on  his  pet  principle  of  home  rule. 
And  it  is  doubly  certain  that  he  utterly 


Stephen  A.  Douglas 


failed  to  grasp  the  great  underlying  truth 
of  Lincoln's  structure,  that  slavery  is  a 
wrong.  However,  Douglas  had  a  wonderful 
instinct  to  see  the  popular  side  of  an  issue, 
and  he  never  hesitated  to  espouse  it,  and  to 
clothe  it  in  catchy  phrase.  He  had  the 
crowd,  the  volatile  crowd,  with  him.  They 
could  understand  that  a  war  of  sections 
was  rebellion,  that  a  "  nigger"  was  not  their 
equal,  that  the  Supreme  Court  should  be 
reverenced,  that  popular  sovereignty  was 
fair  play.  Of  Lincoln's  high  moral  attitude, 
Douglas  took  no  notice.  He  rather  deigned 
to  be  above  the  "  Railsplitter  "  anyway,  and 
silently  ignored  all  allusions  to  "higher  law" 
and  the  "rights  of  man."  His  catchy  phras 
es  acted  upon  the  unthinking  multitude  like 
matches  on  a  dry  prairie.  The  flames  leaped 
from  village  to  village,  and  threatened  the 
Republicans  with  destruction. 

For  Lincoln  appeared  at  great  disadvant 
age.  He  was  speaking  to  convince,  not  to 
amuse;  he  sought  to  make  men  think,  not  to 
make  them  cheer;  to  make  them  use  their 
heads,  not  their  hands.  The  philosophy  of 
right  and  wrong  must  finally  sink  into  the 
heart  of  the  common  people  he  loved,  but  it 
was  a  slow  process.  Meanwhile  Douglas 
was  playing  skilfully  on  the  surface,  arous 
ing  the  emotions  and  calling  forth  universal 
applause. 

Lincoln  and  his  friends  realized  that  some 
thing  must  be  done  to  counteract  this  ad- 


384    Five  American  Politicians 

vantage.  If  these  rivals  could  appear  in 
joint  discussion,  Douglas  would  have  to 
meet  Lincoln  upon  an  equality.  His  silent- 
contempt  and  assumed  superiority  would  be 
neutralized  and  his  language  tempered  by 
the  presence  of  Lincoln.  Douglas  agreed  to 
the  debate.  Seven  meetings  were  arranged 
for,  in  as  many  towns,  each  speaker  alter 
nately  to  open  and  close,  the  opening  speech 
to  occupy  an  hour,  the  reply  one  hour  and  a 
half,  the  rejoinder  one-half  hour.  Douglas 
chose  to  open  four  debates,  leaving  Lincoln 
only  three,  but  he  submitted  to  this  inequal 
ity  with  his  usual  good  nature. 

Seven  Illinois  towns  were  made  historic 
by  these  meetings.  Not  one  external  cir 
cumstance  that  could  add  significance  to 
these  occasions  was  wanting.  For  thirty 
miles  around,  the  country  emptied  itself 
into  each  town.  The  multitudes  came  on 
foot,  in  wagons,  by  the  train  load.  They 
camped  in  the  open  fields  to  await  the  great 
day.  They  marched,  they  sang,  they  drank 
and  made  merry.  Bands,  torches,  fireworks 
and  banners  made  bizarre  these  encounters 
of  the  giants.  The  multitudes  came  in  glee, 
they  departed  in  silence;  they  gathered  in 
jubilant  excitement,  they  returned  to  their 
homes  in  sober  thought;  for  Lincoln  lived  up 
to  his  simple  purpose,  "I  want  to  convince 
the  people/'  Douglas  captivated  the  peo 
ple,  Lincoln  sobered  them.  Douglas  per 
sisted  in  amplifying  the  ostensible  assump- 


Stephen  A.  Douglas          385 

tions  of  Lincoln;  the  answer  was  invariably 
the  simple,  convincing  logic.  Douglas's 
speeches  were  turgid  with  misleading  insinu 
ations  ;  Lincoln's  answers  were  pregnant  with 
prophecy. 

Douglas  made  great  show  of  Lincoln's 
quotation  from  the  Declaration  of  Inde 
pendence,  that  "all  men  are  created  free 
and  equal."  In  his  Bloomington  speech 
(not  in  the  series  with  Lincoln)  he  said: 
"He  [Lincoln]  believes  that  the  negro, 
by  the  divine  law,  is  created  the  equal 
of  the  white  man,  and  that  no  human  law 
can  deprive  him  of  that  equality  thus  se 
cured  ;  and  he  contends  that  the  negro  ought 
therefore  to  have  all  the  rights  and  privil 
eges  of  citizenship  on  an  equality  of  the 
white  man.  In  order  to  accomplish  this, 
the  first  thing  that  would  have  to  be  done 
in  this  state  would  be  to  blot  out  of  our 
state  constitution  that  clause  which  prohib 
its  negroes  from  coming  into  this  state  and 
making  it  an  African  colony,  and  permit 
them  to  come  and  spread  over  these  prairies 
until  in  mid-day  they  shall  look  as  black  as 
night.  When  our  friend  Lincoln  gets  all  his 
colored  brethren  around  him  here,  he  will 
then  raise  them  to  perfection  as  fast  as  possi 
ble,  and  place  them  on  an  equality  with  the 
white  man.  *  *  He  wants  them  to  vote. 
I  am  opposed  to  it.  If  they  had  a  vote, 
I  reckon  they  would  all  vote  for  him  in 
preference  to  me.  *  *  If  the  divine  law 


25 


386    Five  American  Politicians 

declares  that  the  white  man  is  the  equal  of 
the  negro  woman,  that  they  are  on  a  perfect 
equality,  I  suppose  he  admits  the  right  of 
the  negro  woman  to  many  the  white  man." 
This  demagogery  was  very  popular. 

Lincoln's  reply  was  simple.  He  reminded 
Douglas  that  it  was  not  necessary  for  a  man 
to  have  a  negro  woman  for  his  wife  if  he 
did  not  want  her  for  his  slave.  He  said: 
"There  is  a  physical  difference  between  the 
two  races  which  in  my  judgment  will  prob 
ably  forever  forbid  their  living  together  upon 
the  footing  of  perfect  equality ;  and  inasmuch 
as  it  becomes  a  necessity  that  there  must  be 
a  difference,  I,  as  well  as  Judge  Douglas,  am 
in  favor  of  the  race  to  which  I  belong  having 
the  superior  position.  I  have  never  said 
anything  to  the  contrary,  but  I  hold  that 
notwithstanding  all  this,  there  is  no  reason 
in  the  world  why  the  negro  is  not  entitled 
to  all  the  natural  rights  enumerated  in  the 
Declaration  of  Independence, — the  right  to 
life,  liberty  and  the  pursuit  of  happiness. 
I  hold  that  he  is  as  much  entitled  to  these 
as  the  white  man.  I  agree  with  Judge 
Douglas  he  is  not  my  equal  in  many  respects, 
certainly  not  in  color,  perhaps  not  in  morals 
or  intellectual  endowments ;  but  in  the  right 
to  eat  the  bread  without  the  leave  of  any 
body  else,  which  his  own  hand  earns,  he  is 
my  equal,  and  the  equal  of  Judge  Douglas, 
and  the  equal  of  every  living  man." 

Equally  popular  was  Douglas's  strategy  on 


Stephen  A.  Douglas          387 

the  nationalization  of  slavery.  He  affected 
indifference  to  such  an  expansion,  believing 
as  he  had  reiterated  for  twenty  years  that 
slavery  was  a  purely  local  domestic  institu 
tion.  "I  do  not  care  whether  slavery  is 
voted  up  or  voted  down,"  he  cried.  "Let 
Kentucky  mind  her  own  business  and  take 
care  of  her  negroes,  and  we  will  attend  to 
our  own  affairs  and  take  care  of  our  ne 
groes,  and  we  will  be  the  best  of  friends.  I 
recognize  all  the  people  of  the  states,  north, 
and  south,  east  and  west,  old  and  new, 
Atlantic  and  Pacific,  as  our  brethren,  flesh 
of  our  flesh,  and  I  will  do  no  act  unto  them 
that  I  would  not  be  willing  they  should  do 
unto  us.  I  would  apply  the  same  Christian 
rule  to  the  states  of  this  Union  that  we  are 
taught  to  apply  to  individuals,  do  unto 
others  as  you  would  have  others  do  unto 
you,  and  this  would  secure  peace." 

Lincoln's  rejoinder  was  no  subterfuge. 
He  showed  that  the  slave  interests  were  not 
satisfied  with  a  mere  let-alone  policy.  They 
were  determined  to  have  slavery  declared 
legal  everywhere.  "It  is  merely  for  the 
Supreme  Court  to  decide  that  no  state  under 
the  constitution  can  exclude  it,  just  as  they 
have  already  decided  that  under  the  consti 
tution  neither  congress  nor  the  territorial 
legislatures  can  do  it.  When  that  is  decided 
and  acquiesced  in,  the  whole  thing  is  done. 
This  being  true,  and  this  being  the  way  I 
think  slavery  is  to  be  made  national,  let  us 


388    Five  American  Politicians 

consider  what  Judge  Douglas  is  doing  every 
day  to  that  end.  *  *  *  Democratic  pol 
icy  in  regard  to  that  institution  will  not 
tolerate  the  merest  breath,  the  slightest  hint 
of  the  least  degree  of  wrong  about  it.  Try 
it  by  some  of  Judge  Douglas's  arguments. 
He  says  he  don't  care  whether  it  is  voted  up 
or  voted  down  in  the  territories.  I  do  not 
care  myself,  in  dealing  with  that  expression, 
whether  it  is  intended  to  be  expressive  of 
his  individual  sentiments  on  that  subject,  or 
only  the  national  policy  he  desires  to  have 
established.  It  is  alike  valuable  for  my 
purpose.  Any  man  can  say  that  whordoes 
not  see  anything  wrong  in  slavery,  but  no 
man  can'  logically  say  it  who  does  see  a  wrong 
in  it,  because  no  man  can  logically  say  he 
don't  care  whether  a  wrong  is  voted  up  or 
down.  He  may  say  he  don't  care  whether 
an  indifferent  thing  is  voted  up  or  down,  but 
he  must  logically  have  a  choice  between  a 
right  thing  and  a  wrong  thing.  He  con 
tends  that  whatever  community  wants 
slaves  has  a  right  to  have  them.  So  they 
have  if  it  is  not  a  wrong.  But  if  it  is  a 
wrong  he  cannot  say  people  have  a  right  to 
do  wrong.  He  says  that  upon  the  score  of 
equality,  slaves  should  be  allowed  to  go  into 
a  new  territory  like  other  property.  This  is 
strictly  logical  if  there  is  no  difference  be 
tween  it  and  other  property.  If  it  and  other 
property  are  equal,  his  argument  is  entirely 
logical.  But  if  you  insist  that  one  is  wrong 


Stephen  A.  Douglas          389 

and  the  other  right,  there  is  no  use  to  insinu 
ate  a  comparison  between  right  and  wrong. 
You  may  turn  over  everything  in  the  Demo 
cratic  policy  from  beginning  to  end,  whether 
in  the  shape  it  takes  in  the  statute  books,  in 
the  shape  it  takes  in  the  Dred  Scott  decision, 
in  the  shape  it  takes  in  conversation,  in  the 
shape  it  takes  in  short,  maxim-like  argu 
ments, — it  everywhere  carefully  excludes 
the  idea  that  there  is  anything  wrong  in  it. 
That  is  the  real  issue.  That  is  the  issue  that 
will  continue  in  this  country  when  these  poor 
tongues  of  Judge  Douglas  and  myself  shall 
be  silent.  It  is  the  eternal  struggle  between 
these  two  principles,  right  and  wrong, 
throughout  the  world.  These  are  the  two 
principles  that  have  stood  face  to  face  from 
the  beginning  of  time,  and  will  ever  con 
tinue  to  struggle.  The  one  is  the  common 
right  of  humanity,  the  other  is  the  divine 
right  of  kings.  It  is  the  same  principle  in 
whatever  shape  it  develops  itself.  It  is 
the  same  spirit  that  says,  'You  work  and 
toil  and  earn  bread,  and  I'll  eat  it.'  No 
matter  in  what  shape  it  comes,  whether  from 
the  mouth  of  a  king  who  seeks  to  bestride 
the  people  of  his  own  nation,  and  live  from 
the  fruit  of  their  labor,  or  from  one  race  of 
men  as  an  apology  for  enslaving  another 
race.  It  is  the  same  tyrannical  principle." 

Douglas  knew  better  than  to  answer  this 
phase  of  the  argument. 

The  differences  between  the  rivals   and 


39°    Five  American  Politicians 

their  convictions  is  fairly  shown  by  the 
following  extracts.  The  first  is  from  Doug 
las's  Bloomington  speech :  "  This  Union  can 
only  be  preserved  by  maintaining  the  fra 
ternal  feeling  between  the  north  and  the 
south,  the  east  and  the  west.  If  that  good 
feeling  can  be  preserved  the  Union  will  be  as 
perpetual  as  the  fame  of  its  founders.  It 
can  be  maintained  by  preserving  the  sover 
eignty  of  states,  the  right  of  each  state  and 
of  each  territory  to  settle  its  domestic  con 
cerns  for  itself,  and  the  duty  of  each  to  re 
frain  from  interfering  with  the  other,  in  any 
of  its  local  or  domestic  institutions.  Let 
that  be  done,  and  this  republic,  which  began 
with  thirteen  states  and  which  now  numbers 
thirty- two,  which  when  it  began  only  ex 
tended  from  the  Atlantic  to  the  Mississippi, 
but  now  reaches  to  the  Pacific,  may  yet 
expand  north  and  south  until  it  covers  the 
whole  continent  and  becomes  one  vast  ocean- 
bound  confederacy.  Bear  in  mind  the  divid 
ing  line  between  state  rights  and  federal  au 
thority;  let  us  maintain  the  great  principles 
of  popular  sovereignty  of  state  rights  and 
the  Federal  Union  as  the  constitution  has 
made  it,  and  this  Republic  will  endure  for 
ever." 

Lincoln  was  more  concerned  about  the 
dividing  line  between  right  and  wrong,  and 
about  the  preservation  of  the  underlying 
principles  of  the  Republic  as  laid  down  in 
the  Declaration  of  Independence.  He  said, 


Stephen  A.  Douglas          391 

at  Lewiston,  in  a  speech  not  in  the  series 
with  Douglas,  in  which  he  had  shown,  by 
careful  historical  analysis  that  the  framers 
of  the  constitution  did  not  write  slavery 
into  the  laws  of  the  land,  but  that  they  be 
lieved  they  had  put  slavery  well  on  the  way 
to  extinction:  "Now,  if  slavery  had  been 
a  good  thing  would  the  fathers  of  the  Repub 
lic  have  taken  a  step  calculated  to  diminish  its 
beneficent  influences  among  themselves  and 
snatch  the  boon  wholly  from  their  posterity? 
These  communities,  by  their  representatives 
in  old  Independence  Hall,  said  to  the  whole 
world  of  men :  '  We  hold  these  truths  to  be 
self-evident:  that  all  men  are  created  equal ; 
that  they  are  endowed  by  their  creator  with 
certain  inalienable  rights;  that  among  them 
are  life,  liberty  and  the  pursuit  of  happiness.' 
This  was  their  majestic  interpretation  of  the 
economy  of  the  universe.  This  was  their 
lofty  and  wise  and  noble  understanding  of 
the  justice  of  the  Creator  to  his  creatures. 
Yes,  gentlemen,  to  all  his  creatures,  to  the 
whole  great  family  of  man.  In  their  en 
lightened  belief,  nothing  stamped  with  the 
divine  image  and  likeness  was  sent  into  the 
world  to  be  trodden  on  and  degraded,  and 
imbruted  by  its  fellows.  They  grasped  not 
only  the  whole  race  of  man  then  living,  but 
they  reached  forward  and  seized  upon  the 
farthest  posterity.  *  *  *  Wise  states 
men  they  were,  they  knew  the  tendency  of 
prosperity  to  breed  tyrants,  and  so  they  es- 


392    Five  American  Politicians 

tablished  these  great  self-evident  truths,  and 
when  in  the  distant  future  some  man,  some 
faction,  some  interest,  should  set  up  the 
doctrine  that  none  but  rich  men,  or  none  but 
white  men,  or  none  but  Anglo-Saxon  white 
men  were  entitled  to  life,  liberty  and  the 
pursuit  of  happiness,  their  posterity  might 
look  up  again  to  the  Declaration  of  Inde 
pendence  and  take  courage  to  renew  the 
battle  which  their  fathers  began,  so  that 
truth,  and  justice  and  mercy,  and  all  the 
human  and  Christian  virtues  might  not  be 
extinguished  from  the  land ;  so  that  no  man 
would  hereafter  dare  to  limit  and  circum 
scribe  the  great  principles  on  which  the 
temple  of  liberty  was  being  built. 

"Now,  my  countrymen,  if  you  have 
been  taught  doctrines  conflicting  with  the 
great  landmarks  of  the  Declaration  of  In 
dependence;  if  you  have  listened  to  sugges 
tion  which  would  take  away  from  its  gran 
deur  and  mutilate  the  fair  symmetry  of  its 
proportions;  if  you  have  been  inclined  to 
believe  that  all  men  are  not  created  equal  in 
those  inalienable  rights  enumerated  by  our 
chart  of  liberty,  let  me  entreat  you  to  come 
back.  Return  to  the  fountain  whose  wat 
ers  spring  close  by  the  blood  of  the  revolu 
tion.  Think  nothing  of  me,  take  no  thought 
of  the  political  fate  of  any  man  whomsoever, 
but  come  back  to  the  truths  that  are  in  the 
Declaration  of  Independence.  You  may  do 
anything  with  me  you  choose,  if  you  will  but 


Stephen  A.  Douglas          393 

heed  those  sacred  principles.  You  may  not 
only  defeat  me  for  the  senate,  but  you  may 
take  me  and  put  me  to  death.  While  pre 
tending  no  indifference  to  earthly  honors,  I 
do  claim  to  be  actuated  in  this  contest,  by 
something  higher  than  an  anxiety  for  office. 
I  charge  you  to  drop  every  paltry  and  insig 
nificant  thought  of  any  man's  success.  It  is 
nothing;  I  am  nothing;  Judge  Douglas  is 
nothing.  But  do  not  destroy  that  immortal 
emblem  of  humanity,  the  Declaration  of  In 
dependence." 

These  extracts  show  more  clearly  than 
anything  else  can,  the  profound  difference 
between  the  brilliant  debater,  the  champion 
of  popular  sovereignty,  and  the  great  states 
man,  the  champion  of  the  oppressed  race. 
The  difference  was  a  moral  difference.  Lin 
coln  always  went  back  to  the  deep  sources  of 
popular  government,  while  Douglas'  was 
skilfully  setting  forth  his  veneered  doctrine 
of  popular  sovereignty. 

The  second  debate  of  the  series  was  held 
at  Freeport,  and  it  was  here  that  fate 
wrought  mightily  with  the  destinies  of  the 
republic.  For  in  its  effects,  both  immediate 
and  ultimate,  upon  the  politics  of  our  land 
this  discussion  has  never  had  its  equal. 

At  Ottawa,  during  the  progress  of  the 
first  debate,  Douglas  had  addressed  a  series 
of  seven  questions  to  Lincoln.  These  were 
so  artfully  arranged  in  substance  and  man 
ner,  that  Douglas  felt  to  a  certainty  that 


394    Five  American  Politicians 

their  answers  would  enmesh  Lincoln  in  the 
web  of  defeat.  He  had  underrated  the 
shrewdness  of  his  antagonist.  At  Freeport, 
Lincoln  answered  every  question  unequivo 
cally  and  with  perfect  frankness,  and  in  turn 
addressed  to  Douglas  four  other  questions. 
The  second  of  these  read  as  follows:  "Can 
the  people  of  a  territory,  in  any  lawful  way, 
against  the  wish  of  any  citizen  of  the  United 
States,  exclude  slavery  from  its  limits,  prior 
to  the  formation  of  a  state  constitution?" 
This  was  a  thrust  to  the  heart.  For,  if  he 
answered  "No"  his  people  would  turn 
against  him  almost  to  a  man,  and  if  he  an 
swered  "Yes"  the  Democrats  of  the  south, 
upon  whom  he  depended  for  his  election  to 
the  presidency,  would  spurn  him  with  con 
tempt. 

The  popular-sovereignty  doctrine  rested 
upon  the  theory  that  the  people  of  a  terri 
tory  had  a  right  to  vote  slavery  in  or  out, 
as  they  wished.  Douglas  had  written  into 
his  Kansas-Nebraska  bill  that  such  right 
was  "subject  to  the  constitution/7  Soon 
after,  the  Supreme  Court,  in  the  Dred  Scott 
case,  had  decided  that  the  constitution  gave 
congress  no  power  to  prohibit  slavery  in  the 
territories,  nor  that  it  could  authorize  a  ter 
ritorial  legislature  to  prohibit  it.  The  Su 
preme  Court  had  thus  virtually  declared  pop 
ular  sovereignty  unconstitutional;  it  had 
pricked  the  glittering  globule  of  Douglas's 
statesmanship.  Now,  if  Douglas  answered 


Stephen  A.  Douglas          395 

Lincoln's  question  in  the  affirmative,  what 
would  become  of  the  Supreme  Court  decision? 
If  he  answered  in  the  negative,  what  would 
become  of  the  senatorship?  Lincoln  had 
foreseen  this  dilemma.  To  his  friends,  who 
had  advised  him  against  asking  the  question, 
he  replied  that  Douglas  could  never  answer 
that  question  and  be  both  senator  and  Pres 
ident.  "But,"  they  persisted,  "if  you  do 
ask  him,  he  will  never  answer  'no/  and  you 
cannot  then  be  elected  senator."  "I  am 
killing  larger  game/'  he  rejoined.  "  If  Doug 
las  answers  that  way,  he  can  not  be  made 
President  in  1860,  and  that  battle  will  be 
bigger  than  this  one." 

The  intrepid  Douglas  did  not  hesitate  to 
answer.  Skilled  in  parry  and  thrust,  prac 
ticed  in  the  tactics  of  flank  movements,  the 
veteran  debater  faced  this  crisis  of  his  career 
without  hesitation.  This  was  his  answer: 
"I  answer  emphatically,  as  Mr.  Lincoln  has 
heard  me  answer  a  hundred  times  from  ev 
ery  stump  in  Illinois,  that  in  my  opinion  the 
people  of  a  territory  can,  by  lawful  means, 
exclude  slavery  from  their  limits  prior  to 
the  formation  of  a  state  constitution.  Mr. 
Lincoln  knew  that  I  had  answered  that 
question  over  and  over  again.  He  heard 
me  argue  the  Nebraska  bill  on  that  principle 
all  over  the  state  in  1854,  in  1855  and  in 
1856,  and  he  has  no  excuse  for  pretending  to 
be  in  doubt  as  to  my  position  on  that  ques 
tion.  It  matters  not  what  way  the  Supreme 


396    Five  American  Politicians 

Court  may  hereafter  decide  as  to  the  abstract 
question,  whether  slavery  may  or  may  not 
go  into  a  territory  under  the  constitution. 
The  people  have  the  lawful  means  to  intro 
duce  or  exclude  it,  as  they  please,  for  the 
reason  that  slavery  cannot  exist  a  day  or  an 
hour  anywhere,  unless  it  is  supported  by  lo 
cal  police  regulation.  These  police  regula 
tions  can  only  be  established  by  the  local 
legislature,  and  if  the  people  are  opposed  to 
slavery,  they  will  elect  representatives  to 
that  body  who  will,  by  unfriendly  legisla 
tion,  effectually  prevent  the  introduction  of 
it  into  their  midst.  If,  on  the  contrary, 
they  are  for  it,  their  legislation  will  favor  its 
extension.  Hence,  no  matter  what  the  de 
cision  of  the  Supreme  Court  may  be  on  that 
abstract  question,  still  the  right  of  the  people 
to  make  a  slave  territory  or  a  free  territory 
is  perfect  and  complete  under  the  Nebraska 
bill.  I  hope  Mr.  Lincoln  deems  my  answer 
satisfactory  on  that  point." 

There  was  no  reason  why  the  far-sighted 
Lincoln  should  not  deem  his  answer  wholly 
satisfactory.  For  he  knew  time  would 
make  transparent  its  cloudy  opalescence, 
and  that  the  people  would  sooner  or  later 
see  through  the  pitiable  subterfuge.  The 
crowd  at  Freeport  cheered  the  answer  tre 
mendously.  Douglas  had  a  wonderfully 
effective  way  of  delivering  his  sentences,  and 
it  was  no  doubt  his  straightforward,  defiant, 
masterful  manner  that  carried  his  "  Freeport 


Stephen  A.  Douglas          397 

doctrine"  through  the  campaign,  quite  as 
much  as  the  words  that  so  skilfully  framed  it. 

Lincoln's  reply  was  characteristic.  He 
said  that  Douglas's  dodge  on  the  Dred 
Scott  decision  directed  people  to  believe 
"that  a  thing  may  be  lawfully  driven  away 
from  where  it  has  a  lawful  right  to  be." 
Quaintly,  and  with  unanswerable  directness, 
he  portrayed  the  predicament  of  a  man  elect 
ed  to  a  territorial  legislature,  who  took  oath 
that  he  would  support  the  constitution  of  the 
United  States,  and  then  violated  that  oath 
by  passing  police  regulations  unfavorable 
to  slavery.  "Why,  this  is  a  monstrous  sort 
of  talk  about  the  constitution  of  the  United 
States/'  he  exclaimed.  "There  has  never 
been  as  outlandish  and  lawless  a  doctrine 
from  the  mouth  of  any  respectable  man  on 
earth.  I  do  not  believe  it  is  a  constitu 
tional  right  to  hold  slaves  in  a  territory  of 
the  United  States.  I  believe  the  decision 
was  improperly  made  and  I  go  for  reversing 
it.  Judge  Douglas  is  furious  against  those 
who  go  for  reversing  a  decision,  but  he  is  for 
legislating  it  out  of  all  force,  while  the  law  it 
self  stands." 

There  remains  no  doubt  that  Lincoln's 
was  the  sounder  jurisprudence.  He  was 
Douglas's  peer  as  a  student  of  history,  and 
as  a  constitutional  lawyer.  The  house  of 
Douglas's  statesmanship  was  builded  upon 
the  sands  of  expediency;  Lincoln's  upon 
the  granite  of  truth. 


39^    Five  American  Politicians 

But  the  peerless  debater  won  his  fight. 
He  made  the  multitudes  believe  that  he  had 
parried  Lincoln's  deadly  Freeport  thrust. 
His  great  prestige  abroad,  and  the  affection 
of  the  Democracy  at  home,  united  with  his 
marvelous  strategy,  expediency,  and  ora 
tory  to  place  him  again  into  the  senatorial 
chair.  His  majority  on  a  joint  vote  of  the 
two  houses  of  the  legislature  was  only 
about  eight  votes.  The  Republicans  polled 
nearly  four  thousand  more  votes  in  the  state 
than  the  Democrats.  But  the  apportion 
ment  of  seats  in  the  legislature  was  based 
upon  the  census  of  1850,  and  was  more  fa 
vorable  to  the  Democrats  than  to  the  Repub 
licans. 

The  personal  popularity  of  Douglas  is  not 
to  be  measured  by  the  closeness  of  this  mar 
gin.  For  twenty  years  he  had  been  the  idol 
of  his  state,  and  the  people  were  not  willing 
to  withdraw  from  him  their  affections,  even 
though  they  might  withhold  their  votes. 
Everywhere  he  was  greeted  by  enormous 
throngs,  and  his  sentiments  were  echoed  in 
a  surfeit  of  wild  applause.  There  were  no 
stay-at-home  voters  in  Illinois  that  year. 

The  campaign  of  enthusiasm  closed  with 
a  mammoth  rally,  held  in  Chicago  the  night 
before  election.  Through  rain  and  mud, 
the  Republicans  marched  in  an  enormous 
torchlight  parade,  so  popular  in  those  days; 
while  the  Democrats  gathered  in  a  half- 
dozen  large  meetings,  where  they  awaited 


Stephen  A.  Douglas 399 

patiently  in  the  rain,  the  arrival  of  Douglas, 
who  addressed  each  meeting.  Douglas  had 
made  a  fortune  in  Chicago  real  estate,  and 
his  campaign  cost  him  forty  thousand  dol 
lars.  Lincoln,  out  of  his  poverty,  could  give 
little  more  than  his  personal  expenses.  He 
confided  to  a  friend  that  the  campaign  had 
cost  him  "nigh  unto  five  hundred  dollars." 

Buchanan  had  tried  his  utmost  to  compass 
the  defeat  of  Douglas.  He  had  barred  his 
friends  from  federal  patronage;  he  deposed 
the  postmaster  of  Chicago,  Douglas's  most 
intimate  political  friend;  he  sent  emissaries 
and  money  into  the  state;  he  turned  all  the 
power  and  odium  of  the  administration 
against  him.  A  more  potent  combination 
cannot  confront  a  candidate,  and  the  tri 
umph  of  Douglas  was  not  unlike  that  of 
Gladstone  in  1880. 

On  the  other  hand  the  reader  must  not 
forget  that  Horace  Greeley,  and  Chittenden, 
of  Kentucky,  with  other  Republicans  and 
former  Whig  leaders,  urged  the  election  of 
Douglas  because  of  this  very  alienation  be 
tween  the  President  and  the  Senator. 

This  debate  occurred  at  a  critical  time  in 
our  history,  and  its  influence  upon  our  pol 
itics  was  far-reaching.  In  the  first  place, 
the  debaters  discarded  all  other  issues, 
and  concentrated  their  power  upon  the  slav 
ery  question.  This  at  once  defined  the  is 
sue  for  the  coming  Presidential  campaign 
in  1860.  After  the  Lincoln-Douglas  debate 


4OO    Five  American  Politicians 

there  could  be  no  other  issue  until  this  one 
was  settled.  In  the  second  place,  the  an 
swer  of  Douglas  to  the  Freeport  question  was 
the  wedge  that  split  in  twain  the  great  Dem 
ocratic  party.  Deeper  and  deeper  this 
wedge  was  driven  by  northern  conscience 
and  southern  wilfulness,  until  a  mighty 
party,  with  great  traditions,  fell  asunder. 
And  thirdly,  Abraham  Lincoln  became  not 
only  the  destroyer,  but  also  the  creator  of  a 
national  party.  With  one  direct  question 
he  had  broken  the  Democracy;  by  his  sim 
ple,  honest  words,  he  called  into  life  the 
slumbering  convictions  of  the  north,  and 
amalgamated  them  into  a  unified  national 
Republican  party.  His  utterances  were  im 
mediately  seized  upon  by  the  Republicans 
of  every  state,  as  the  expression  of  their  own 
belief.  His  words  became  the  creed  of  the 
new  party. 

Upon  the  political  fortunes  of  Douglas 
the  debate  had  a  blighting  effect.  Lincoln 
proved  a  true  prophet.  The  answer  to  the 
second  Freeport  question  made  a  senator, 
and  unmade  a  president.  But  the  prophet 
probably  did  not  foresee  that  the  answer 
also  made  a  president.  Douglas  had  of 
fended  the  nationalizers  of  slavery  by  his  at 
titude  on  the  Lecompton  constitution;  he 
added  the  unpardonable  sin  to  his  political 
shortcomings  when  he  announced  that  he 
believed  the  people  of  a  territory  had  the 
right,  somehow,  to  prohibit  slavery  in  their 


Stephen  A.  Douglas          401 

territory.  The  Buchanan  papers  hurled 
their  opprobrious  epithets  at  him;  and  the 
leaders  of  the  southern  Democrats  were  out 
spoken  in  their  denunciations,  while  Bu 
chanan  and  his  cabinet  were  determined  to 
read  him  entirely  out  of  the  party. 

Senator  Benjamin,  of  Louisiana,  in  a 
speech  in  the  senate,  made  shortly  after  the 
Charleston  convention,  stated  the  case  for 
his  co-workers  in  the  vineyard  of  slavery. 
After  confessing  his  former  love  for  Douglas, 
he  traced  the  gradual  apostasy  of  the  sen 
ator,  and  thus  summed  up  the  charges  of 
the  south:  "We  accuse  him  for  this,  to- 
wit:  that,  having  bargained  with  us  upon  a 
point  upon  which  we  were  at  issue,  that  it 
should  be  considered  a  judicial  point,  that 
he  would  abide  the  decision;  that  he  would 
act  under  the  decision,  and  consider  it  a  doc 
trine  of  the  party;  that  having  said  that  to 
us  here  in  the  senate,  he  went  home,  and 
under  the  stress  of  a  local  election,  his  knees 
gave  way;  his  whole  person  trembled.  His 
adversary  stood  upon  principles  and  was 
beaten,  and  lo!  he  is  the  candidate  of  a 
mighty  party  for  the  presidency  of  the 
United  States.  The  senator  from  Illinois 
faltered.  He  got  the  prize  for  which  he 
faltered;  but  lo!  the  grand  prize  of  his 
ambition  today  slips  from  his  grasp  be 
cause  of  his  faltering  in  his  former  contest, 
and  his  success  in  the  canvass  for  the  senate, 
purchased  for  an  ignoble  price,  has  cost  him 

26 


402    Five  American  Politicians 

the  loss  of  the  Presidency  of  the  United 
States." 

This  was  the  attitude  of  the  southern  or 
thodoxy.  It  charged  heresy,  and  it  pre 
scribed  the  penalty,  excommunication.  But 
the  apostate  high  priest  was  not  to  be  un 
frocked  by  editorials,  or  speeches,  or  threats. 
Douglas  was  never  afraid  of  a  contest.  He 
first  tried  to  win  over  the  south  by  cajoling. 
When  that  failed,  he  fought,  and  in  a  fight 
he  was  the  equal  of  Andrew  Jackson. 

The  first  important  step  of  the  adminis 
tration  to  deprive  Douglas  of  power,  was 
taken  at  the  session  of  congress  that  con 
vened  soon  after  the  election.  He  was  de 
posed  from  the  chairmanship  of  the  commit 
tee  on  territories.  This  blow  was  planned 
at  a  secret  caucus,  and  before  Douglas  had 
returned  to  Washington.  It  was  a  partisan 
deed  that  proved  very  unpopular  through 
out  the  north.  Douglas  had  made  a  brilliant 
chairman  during  a  period  of  our  history 
when  the  committee  was  the  most  important 
one  in  congress.  During  the  thirteen  years 
that  he  held  the  position,  two  in  the  house 
and  eleven  in  the  senate,  he  had  guided  six 
territories  into  statehood,  and  had  organ 
ized  seven  territorial  governments.  His 
splendid  record  was  deserving  of  better 
treatment. 

Immediately  after  the  election  Douglas 
tried  to  set  himself  right  with  the  south.  As 
sured  of  the  senatorship,  he  set  about  to 


"Stephen  A.  Douglas          403 

make  sure  of  the  Democratic  nomination  for 
the  presidency.  In  his  zeal  to  conciliate 
the  south,  he  advanced  some  very  rash  and 
unworthy  doctrines  about  slavery.  He 
made  a  journey  to  Louisiana  three  weeks 
after  his  election.  At  Memphis  and  New 
Orleans  he  was  received  with  pomp  and  cer 
emony  by  committees  of  prominent  citizens. 
Vast  throngs  of  people  assembled  to  hear 
him  speak,  and  bands,  cannon  and  fireworks 
aroused  the  enthusiasm  of  the  populace. 
His  speeches  were  very  adroit  and  cunning 
combinations  of  his  theory  of  unfriendly 
legislation,  of  his  belief  in  rampant  expansion 
to  embrace  the  whole  continent  and  the  isl 
and  of  Cuba,  and  of  his  new  and  advanced 
view  of  slavery.  This,  doctrine  of  slavery 
was  purely  economic.  He  said:  "When 
ever  a  territory  has  a  climate,  a  soil  and  pro 
duction  making  it  the  interest  of  the  inhab 
itants  to  encourage  slave  property,  they 
will  pass  a  slave  code."  The  inexorable 
laws  of  economics  would  regulate  slavery. 
It  was  not  a  question  of  humanity.  In  the 
cotton  belt  it  was  a  question  between  the 
negro  and  the  crocodile,  and  he  would  side 
with  the  negro.  But  if  it  became  a  question 
of  white  man  or  black  man,  he  would  al 
ways  be  for  the  white  man.  The  Almighty 
made  some  lands  that  needed  the  labor  of 
the  negro,  and  therein  slavery  was  fore 
ordained.  And  in  his  New  Orleans  speech 
he  added:  "It  is  a  law  of  humanity,  a  law 


404    Five  American  Politicians 

of  civilization,  that  whenever  a  man  or  a 
race  of  men  show  themselves  incapable  of 
managing  their  own  affairs,  they  must  con 
sent  to  be  governed  by  those  who  are  capable 
of  performing  the  duty.  It  is  on  this  prin 
ciple  that  you  establish  these  institutions  of 
charity  for  the  support  of  the  blind,  or  the 
deaf  and  dumb,  or  the  insane.  In  accord 
ance  with  this  principle,  I  assert  that  the 
negro  race,  under  all  circumstances,  at  all 
times,  and  in  all  countries,  has  shown  itself 
incapable  of  self-government."  Would 
Douglas  have  made  this  remarkable  assertion 
in  Illinois?  Would  he  have  made  it  in  the 
presence  of  Lincoln? 

It  was  January,  1859,  before  the  reflected 
senator  returned  to  Washington.  There  he 
quickly  found  that  his  southern  speeches 
had  utterly  failed  to  reconcile  the  hotspurs 
of  the  administration.  But  to  his  everlast 
ing  credit,  Douglas  would  not  stir  from  his 
position  that  congress  could  not  force  slavery 
upon  an  unwilling  territory.  In  an  extend 
ed  altercation  with  Senator  Brown,  of  Mis 
sissippi,  on  February  23rd,  he  said,  with 
great  earnestness:  "If  you  repudiate  the 
doctrine  of  non-intervention,  and  form  a 
slave  code  by  act  of  congress,  where  the 
people  of  a  territory  refuse  it,  you  must  step 
off  the  Democratic  platform.  We  will  let 
you  depart  in  peace,  as  you  no  longer  belong 
to  us^you  are  no  longer  of  us  when  you 
adopt  the  principle  of  congressional  inter- 


Stephen  A.  Douglas          405 

vention  in  violation  of  the  Democratic  creed. 
I  stand  here  defending  the  great  principle 
of  non-intervention  by  congress,  and  self- 
government  by  the  people  of  the  territories. 
That  is  the  Democratic  creed.  The  Dem 
ocracy  in  the  northern  states  have  so  under 
stood  it.  No  northern  democratic  state 
would  ever  have  voted  for  Mr.  Buchanan 
but  for  the  fact  that  he  was  understood  to 
occupy  that  position.  Gentlemen  of  the 
southern  states,  I  tell  you  in  all  candor,  that 
I  do  not  believe  a  Democratic  candidate 
can  ever  carry  away  one  northern  Demo 
cratic  state  on  the  platform  that  it  is  the 
duty  of  the  federal  government  to  force  the 
people  of  a  territory  to  have  slavery  when 
they  do  not  want  it.  But  if  the  true  prin 
ciples  of  state  rights  and  popular  sovereignty 
be  maintained  and  carried  out  in  good  faith, 
as  set  forth  in  the  Nebraska  bill,  and  as  un 
derstood  by  the  people  in  1856,  a  glorious 
future  awaits  the  Democracy." 

Was  it  possible  that  Douglas  did  not  dis 
cern  the  secret  motive  of  the  extremists  in 
urging  this  schism?  They  were  not  seeking 
his  advice.  They  were  wilfully  hastening 
events  that  would  offer  them  an  ostensible 
excuse  for  dividing,  not  alone  their  party, 
but  also  their  country. 

After  the  adjournment  of  congress,  Doug 
las  received  a  letter  from  his  friend  J.  B. 
Dorr,  of  Iowa,  asking  him  whether  he  would 
permit  his  name  to  be  presented  as  candi- 


4°6    Five  American  Politicians 

date  for  the  presidential  nomination  in  the 
Charleston  convention,  to  be  held  the  follow 
ing  year.  This  was  his  answer: 

"Before  the  question  can  be  finally  de 
termined,  it  will  be  necessary  to  understand 
distinctly  upon  what  issue  the  canvass  is 
to  be  conducted.  If,  as  I  have  full  faith 
they  will,  the  Democratic  party  shall  deter 
mine,  in  the  presidential  election  of  1860,  to 
adhere  to  the  principle  embodied  in  the  com 
promise  measures  of  1850,  and  ratified  by 
the  people  in  the  presidential  election  of 
1852,  and  reaffirmed  in  the  Kansas-Nebraska 
act  of  1854,  and  incorporated  into  the  Cin 
cinnati  platform  of  1856,  as  expounded  by 
Mr.  Buchanan  in  his  letter  accepting  the 
nomination  and  approved  by  the  people,  in 
that  event  my  friends  will  be  at  liberty  to 
present  my  name  to  the  convention  if  they 
see  proper  to  do  so.  If,  on  the  contrary,  it 
shall  become  the  policy  of  the  Democratic 
party — which  I  cannot  anticipate — to  re 
pudiate  these,  their  time-honored  princi 
ples,  on  which  we  have  achieved  so  many 
patriotic  triumphs,  and  if,  in  lieu  of  them, 
the  convention  shall  interpolate  into  the 
creed  of  the  party  such  new  issues  as  the  re 
vival  of  the  African  slave  trade,  or  a  con 
gressional  slave  code  for  the  territories,  or 
the  doctrine  that  the  constitution  of  the 
United  States  either  establishes  or  prohibits 
slavery  in  the  territories,  beyond  the  power 
of  the  people  to  control  it  as  other  property, 


Stephen  A.  Douglas          4<>7 

it  is  due  to  candor  to  say  that,  in  such  an 
event,  I  could  not  accept  the  nomination  if 
tendered  to  me." 

This  frank  letter  was  given  a  wide  circu 
lation.  It  was  interpreted  by  the  south  as 
a  threat  that  Douglas  meant  to  remain  the 
leader  of  the  party  at  all  hazards;  in  the 
north  as  a  manly  appeal  to  all  Democrats  to 
stand  by  the  established  principles  of  state 
rights.  The  slavery  extensionists  redoubled 
their  endeavors  to  get  rid  of  Douglas,  but 
they  only  multiplied  his  energy  and  quick 
ened  his  aggressiveness.  He  was  deter 
mined  to  hold  his  wing  of  the  party  together. 
He  carried  the  fight  for  his  Democracy  into 
every  northern  state.  He  used  every  wea 
pon  known  to  the  political  strategist.  In 
September,  1859,  he  published  an  article  in 
"Harper's  Magazine"  in  which  he  tried  to 
show,  by  a  careful,  historical  analysis,  "the 
dividing  line  between  local  and  federal  au 
thority."  He  traced  the  principles  of  the 
Kansas-Nebraska  Bill  back  to  colonial 
times,  and  maintained  that  the  power  to 
exclude  slavery  from  the  territories  was  not 
one  of  the  prohibited  powers  enumerated  in 
the  constitution. 

His  ingenious  method  of  political  warfare 
caused  some  consternation  among  the  ad 
ministration  Democrats,  and  Buchanan  des 
ignated  his  attorney  general,  Judge  Black, 
as  his  defender.  Black  wrote  his  answer  in 
to  an  anonymous  pamphlet,  in  which  he 


408    Five  American  Politicians 

characterized  the  essay  as  "an  unsuccessful 
effort  at  legal  precision;  like  the  writing  of 
a  judge  who  is  trying  in  vain  to  give  good 
reasons  for  a  wrong  decision  on  a  quotation 
of  law  which  he  has  not  quite  mastered." 

Douglas  was  campaigning  in  Ohio  when 
the  pamphlet  appeared,  and  he  answered  it 
in  a  speech  at  Wooster.  To  this,  Black 
wrote  a  rejoinder,  and  the  war  of  pamphlets 
supplemented  the  war  of  the  hustings. 
Douglas  had  the  final  shot:  "To  separate 
Mr.  Douglas  from  the  Democratic  party, 
seems  to  be  the  patriotic  end  to  which  they 
all  aim.  They  may  as  well  make  up  their 
minds  to  believe,  if  they  have  not  already 
been  convinced  of  the  fact  by  the  bitter 
experience  of  the  last  two  years,  that  the 
thing  cannot  be  done.  I  gave  them  notice 
at  the  initial  point  of  this  crusade,  that  no 
man,  or  set  of  men  on  earth,  save  one,  could 
separate  me  from  the  Democratic  party,  and 
as  I  was  that  one,  and  the  only  one  who  had 
the  power,  I  did  not  intend  to  do  it  myself 
nor  permit  it  to  be  done  by  others." 

It  was  a  magnificent  fight  that  Douglas 
waged  against  his  enemies  within  the  party. 
It  was  a  struggle  of  national  magnitude,  and 
the  nation  followed  him  with  eager  antici 
pation.  In  Ohio,  where  he  had  engaged  to 
make  several  speeches,  he  combated  not 
only  administration  Democrats  but  he  found 
his  old  rival,  Lincoln,  who  had  followed  him 
into  Ohio  to  make  some  campaign  speeches. 


Stephen  A.  Douglas          409 

Indeed,  the  Lincoln-Douglas  debate  did  not 
end  until  the  fateful  election  of  1860  made 
of  these  rivals  co-workers  in  the  cause  of 
nationalism. 

Events  now  crowded  one  another  with 
alarming  haste.  In  the  midst  of  the  state 
campaigns  of  1859,  John  Brown  startled  the 
country  with  his  insane  attempt  to  emanci 
pate  the  slaves  in  the  neighborhood  of  Har 
per's  Ferry  by  force  of  arms.  Whatever 
may  be  the  judgment  of  history  upon  this 
uncouth  character,  the  blended  product  of 
New  England  piety,  frontier  bravado  and 
insane  delusion,  upon  the  tense  political  sit 
uation  of  his  day,  his  miserable,  miscarried 
plans  had  the  most  dire  effects.  The  north 
was  humiliated,  the  south  was  made  deliri 
ous.  Fear  of  slave  insurrections  lurked 
always  in  the  hearts  of  the  slave  masters. 
It  stalked  among  them  like  a  death  dealing 
spectre.  Now  they  pointed  to  Harper's 
Ferry  as  an  object  lesson  of  republican  in 
tentions.  In  congress  they  immediately  ap 
pointed  a  committe  of  investigation.  The 
committee  sought  in  vain  for  proof  that 
John  Brown  was  instigated  by  Republicans, 
and  that  the  party  was  responsible  for  his 
raid.  Nor  could  they  even  call  the  seizure 
of  the  arsenal  a  treasonable  act  as  denned 
by  the  constitution;  but  they  were  com 
pelled  to  report  it  "  simply  the  act  of  lawless 
ruffians  under  the  sanction  of  no  public  or 
political  authority."  The  minority  report 


410    Five  American  Politicians 

of  the  committee  sought  to  prove  that  the 
episode  was  a  direct  outgrowth  of  border 
ruffianism  in  Kansas. 

The  debate  upon  these  reports  was  the 
occasion  of  bitter  taunts  and  maledictions. 
In  the  house,  parliamentary  babel  reigned 
for  over  two  months,  while  the  fire-eaters 
of  the  south  and  the  determined  conserva 
tives  of  the  north  were  grappling  with  each 
other  for  the  speakership.  In  the  senate  a 
bill  was  reported  from  the  judiciary  com 
mittee  "for  the  protection  of  each  state  and 
territory  of  the  Union  against  invasion  by 
the  authorities  or  inhabitants  of  any  other 
state." 

Douglas  announced  that  on  the  23rd  of 
January  he  would  address  the  senate  upon 
this  bill.  He  was  the  commanding  figure 
of  this  congressional  struggle  for  unity  in 
the  Democratic  party,  for  unity  in  our  nation. 
Although  he  was  not  to  speak  until  2  o'clock 
in  the  afternoon,  long  before  the  hour  of 
noon  the  galleries  were  packed.  Almost  the 
entire  house  of  representatives  shared  the 
floor  with  the  senators.  Douglas  spoke  to 
the  nation.  If  any  one  expected  that  he 
would  depart  from  the  landmarks  of  his 
former  statesmanship,  and  espouse  the  doc 
trines  of  Jefferson  Davis  and  Buchanan,  or 
if  any  came  expecting  to  hear  new  theories 
of  slavery,  or  to  find  a  new  panacea  for  the 
nation's  great  woe,  they  were  disappointed. 
But  those  who  gathered  in  that  notable 


Stephen  A.  Douglas 411 

throng  expecting  to  hear  a  brilliant  exposi 
tion  of  the  doctrine  of  state  sovereignty,  as 
consistently  preached  by  its  high  priest  for 
so  many  years,  were  gratified  beyond  meas 
ure.  Douglas  said  nothing  new.  He  had 
long  ago  found  the  ultimate  capacity  of  his 
theory  of  state  sovereignty.  He  was  trying 
to  recall  the  Democratic  dissenters  by  turn 
ing  them  against  the  Republicans.  "The 
Harper's  Ferry  Crime"  he  called  "the  nat 
ural,  logical,  inevitable  result  of  the  teach 
ings  of  the  Republican  party.  The  great 
principle  that  underlies  the  organization  of 
the  Republican  party  is  violent,  irrecon 
cilable,  eternal  warfare  upon  the  institution 
of  American  slavery,  with  the  view  of  its 
ultimate  extinction  throughout  the  land; 
sectional  war  is  to  be  waged  until  the  cotton 
fields  of  the  south  shall  be  cultivated  by 
free  labor,  or  the  rye  fields  of  New  York  and 
Massachusetts  shall  be  cultivated  by  slave 
labor."  He  reiterated  his  belief  that  "the 
question  of  slavery  is  one  of  climate  and  po 
litical  economy,  of  self-interest,  not  a  ques 
tion  of  legislation."  "You  cannot  force 
slavery  by  all  the  acts  of  congress  you  may 
make/'  he  tells  the  south,  "on  one  inch  of 
territory,  against  the  will  of  the  people." 
"And  you  cannot,"  he  told  the  north,  "by 
any  law  you  can  make,  keep  it  from  one  inch 
of  American  territory  where  the  people  want 
it."  And  for  the  thousandth  time  he  ex 
claims:  "My  object  is  to  establish  firmly 


412    Five  American  Politicians 

the  doctrine  that  each  state  is  to  do  its  own 
voting,  establish  its  own  institutions,  make 
its  own  laws  without  interference,  directly 
or  indirectly,  from  any  outside  power." 

The  slave-masters  were  out  of  the  reach 
of  any  state  rights  arguments.  They  had 
for  several  years  abandoned  that  basis  of 
action.  They  had  shifted  onto  the  basis 
that  the  constitution  legalized  slavery  in  the 
territories,  whether  the  people  wanted  it  or 
not.  They  could  therefore  not  be  satisfied 
with  Douglas.  His  speech  merely  aroused 
their  anger  and  intensified  the  venom  of 
their  attacks. 

And  the  Republicans :  it  was  not  expected 
that  they  would  be  moved  by  such  an  appeal. 
Of  Seward,  Douglas  said :  "  His  entire  argu 
ment  rests  upon  the  assumption  that  the 
negro  and  the  white  man  were  equal  by  di 
vine  law,  and  hence  all  laws  and  constitu 
tions  and  governments  in  violation  of  the 
principle  of  negro  equality  are  in  violation 
of  the  law  of  God."  And  he  proceeded  to 
show,  in  his  own  peculiar  and  misleading 
and  demagogical  manner  how  this  would 
set  the  constitution  of  the  United  States  in 
conflict  with  the  divine  law,  and  thus  either 
make  divine  law  unconstitutional  or  the 
constitution  an  instrument  of  iniquity.  How 
could  such  rant  win  a  conscience-possessed 
people? 

Here,  then,  you  see  the  position  of  Stephen 
A.  Douglas  in  the  opening  of  the  eventful 


Stephen  A.  Douglas          4*3 

year  1860.  His  country  is  divided  upon  the 
question  of  slavery.  One  portion  believes 
slavery  to  be  a  necessary  institution,  there 
fore  a  divine  institution,  sanctioned  by  God, 
by  the  constitution  and  by  the  practice  of 
the  people;  the  other  portion  believes  slavery 
to  be  wrong,  equally  in  conflict  with  the 
divine  will  and  the  Declaration  of  Inde 
pendence  and  the  interests  of  civilization. 
One  portion  believes  that  the  constitution 
carries  this  institution  into  every  territory; 
the  other  portion  believes  that  the  constitu 
tion  meant  merely  to  tolerate  slavery  where 
it  existed  in  1787.  One  portion  believes 
that  a  state  can  declare  itself  independent 
of  the  Union ;  the  other  portion  believes  that 
Union  could  not  be  ruptured  by  any  volun 
tary  act  of  any  state.  Both  portions  were 
fierce  in  their  determination;  both  were  re 
lentless,  unforgiving,  unyielding.  There  was 
a  third  portion  that  remained  neutral,  rather 
hoping  for  the  ultimate  extinction  of  slavery, 
but  unwilling  to  make  it  the  cause  for  rup 
ture. 

His  party  he  found  likewise  divided. 
The  southern  wing  was  led  by  Jefferson 
Davis.  Step  by  step  they  had  advanced 
from  the  position  of  passive  toleration  of 
slavery  to  the  position  of  aggressive  expan 
sion  of  slave  territory.  It  was  no  longer  the 
Democracy  of  Jackson  or  even  of  Calhoun. 
It  was  the  Democracy  of  Taney,  the  Democ 
racy  that  had  rephrased  the  philosophy  of 


Five  American  Politicians 

the  republic,  and  reformed  the  theory  of  our 
constitution;  the  Democracy  that  by  subtle 
and  potent  influence  had  spread  its  power 
over  the  land,  had  possessed  itself  of  Presi 
dent  and  Cabinet,  of  House  and  Senate,  of 
even  the  Supreme  Court,  had  advanced  from 
the  compromise  of  1820  to  that  of  1850, 
from  the  compromise  of  1850  to  the  Kansas- 
Nebraska  bill,  from  the  Kansas-Nebraska 
bill  to  the  Dred  Scott  decision,  and  from  the 
Dred  Scott  decision  to  the  struggle  for  Le- 
compton.  Like  a  deadly  paralysis,  its  icy 
chill  was  creeping  over  the  body  politic. 
Already  the  Declaration  of  Independence  was 
writhing  under  its  baneful  grasp  and  the  con 
stitution  was  palsied  by  its  blighting  touch. 

This  wing  of  the  party  was  led  by  Jefferson 
Davis,  a  man  of  great  ability,  terse  in  speech, 
pointed  in  argument,  gentle  in  manner, 
brave  in  action,  who  had  learned  Calhoun's 
doctrine  that  the  territory  is  the  co-partner 
of  the  state,  and  that  a  citizen  going  from  a 
state  into  a  territory,  took  the  laws  of  his 
state  with  him.  This  doctrine  he  hoarded 
until  the  time  was  propitious  for  its  wider 
promulgation.  He  was  not  a  profound  man, 
neither  was  he  erratic,  but  he  was  persistent. 
The  conspicuous  part  he  played  in  the 
drama  of  secession  has  invested  him  with 
an  odium  that  only  time  can  dispel. 

The  northern  wing  of  the  party  was,  of 
course,  led  by  Douglas.  As  has  been  shown 
many  times,  he  believed  absolutely  in  home 


Stephen  A.  Douglas          415 

rule.  His  followers  were  willing  to  let  sla 
very  alone  and  adhered  strictly  to  his  well- 
worn  doctrine  of  popular  sovereignty.  They 
were  determined  not  to  surrender  to  the  ad 
ministration  forces,  nor  to  give  way  to  the 
prestige  that  the  new  Republican  party  was 
rapidly  gaining  throughout  the  north.  They 
were  between  the  upper  and  the  nether  mill 
stones,  the  millstone  of  southern  obstinacy 
and  the  millstone  of  northern  conviction. 
Their  fate  was  sealed  by  their  neutrality.  For 
at  a  time  of  a  national  crisis,  neutrals  are  not 
wanted.  And  the  year  1860  marked  the  cul 
mination  of  the  political  crisis  that  was  begun 
when  the  slavery  compromises  were  written 
into  the  constitution  of  the  United  States, 
the  political  crisis  that '  culminated  in  the 
civil  war. 

The  Douglas  Democrats  did  not  expect 
that  war.  The  north  did  not  believe  the 
south  would  precipitate  a  war,  a  civil  war. 
They  failed  to  discover  the  significance  of 
events,  skilfully  concealed  by  the  slave- 
masters  under  the  cloak  of  Buchanan's  ad 
ministration.  So  Republicans  and  Douglas 
Democrats  went  boldly  almost  merrily  for 
ward  to  meet  the  political  campaigns  of  that 
eventful  year.  Had  they  been  less  innocent 
of  the  motives  of  the  south,  their  eyes  would 
early  have  been  opened  to  the  true  situation. 

For  on  the  2nd  of  February  Jefferson 
Davis  introduced  his  noted  resolutions,  set 
ting  forth  the  doctrines  that  his  party  would 


41 6    Five  American  Politicians 

promulgate  in  the  campaign.  There  were 
six  resolutions.  They  affirmed  the  sover 
eignty  of  the  states,  and  their  absolute  equal 
ity;  they  declared  negro  slavery  an  estab 
lished  institution  in  fifteen  states,  protected 
by  the  constitution,  and  therefore  it  should 
be  let  alone  by  all  the  other  states;  they  in 
sisted  that  slave  owners  could  take  their 
property  into  territories,  and  that  if  the 
judicial  executive  authority  failed  to  pro 
tect  it,  then  it  became  the  duty  of  congress 
to  do  so;  and  finally  the  resolutions  declared 
that  only  when  about  to  form  its  first  state 
constitution,  could  the  people  of  a  territory 
"  decide  for  themselves  whether  slavery  as 
a  domestic  institution  shall  be  sustained  or 
prohibited  within  their  jurisdiction^' ' 

The  object  of  these  resolutions  was  to 
stultify  the  effect  of  Douglas's  letter  to  Dorr, 
to  crystallize  the  creed  of  Democracy  before 
the  national  convention,  which  was  called 
to  convene  in  Charleston  on  April  23rd. 
But  Davis  could  not  hasten  a  vote,  and  the 
debate  extended  far  into  May.  It  was  evi 
dent  from  the  utterances  that  this  debate 
brought  forth,  that  the  southern  leaders 
were  growing  more  determined  with  every 
recurring  day  to  rid  themselves  of  Douglas. 
They  went  into  the  Charleston  convention 
determined  to  force  their  views  upon  the 
great  national  party,  which  they  had  con 
trolled  for  so  many  years.  They  had  had 
their  way  so  often,  so  easily  and  for  so  long, 


Stephen  A.  Douglas          4*7 

that  they  never  dreamed  of  the  capacity  of 
the  northern  Democrats  for  manly  resist 
ance  and  independence. 

Douglas  was  the  preeminent  man  of  this 
convention.  Seven  northwestern  states  had 
given  him  the  prestige  of  solid  delegations, 
aggregating  one  hundred  and  thirty-two 
votes.  These  alone  represented  six  hun 
dred  thousand  Democratic  voters,  or  as 
many  as  the  entire  fifteen  slave  states  could 
produce,  and  one-third  of  the  entire  Demo 
cratic  vote  of  the  Union.  He  was  unques 
tionably  the  most  popular  man  in  the  party 
with  a  wonderful  capacity  for  inspiring  hero 
worship,  and  by  far  the  ablest  exponent  of 
the  non-interference  doctrine.  He  had  a 
majority  of  the  delegates,  but  not  a  majority 
of  the  states,  so  his  enemies  captured  the 
machinery  of  the  convention  by  having  all 
the  committees  appointed  and  the  officers 
elected  by  states.  Caleb  Gushing,  of  Massa 
chusetts,  an  ardent  friend  of  Buchanan,  was 
made  chairman. 

The  great  struggle  was  over  the  platform, 
for  Douglas  had  said  in  his  Dorr  letter,  and 
in  many  public  utterances,  that  he  would 
not  stand  on  a  platform  that  did  not  em 
body  popular  sovereignty.  If  the  platform 
could  be  made  by  the  south  then  this  trouble 
some  man  would  be  put  out  of  the  way. 
The  platform  committee,  accordingly,  held 
the  key  of  the  convention,  and  it  locked  the 
door  upon  Douglas.  Three  days  and  three 

27 


418    Five  American  Politicians 

nights  this  committee  wrestled  with  the 
slavery  plank.  They  could  not  unite  and 
brought  in  two  reports.  The  majority  re 
port  read  by  A  very,  of  North  Carolina,  em 
braced  the  doctrines  of  the  Senate  resolutions 
introduced  by  Jefferson  Davis.  The  minority 
report  read  by  Payne,  of  Ohio,  resolved, 
"That  all  questions  in  regard  to  the  rights  of 
property  in  states  or  territories,  arising  under 
the  constitution  of  the  United  States  are  judi 
cial  in  their  character,  and  the  Democratic 
party  is  pledged  to  abide  by  and  faithfully 
carry  out  such  determination  of  these  ques 
tions  as  has  been  or  may  be  made  by  the 
Supreme  Court  of  the  United  States." 

The  south  spurned  even  this  mild  state 
ment.  They  were  determined  upon  having 
their  own  way.  But  the  north  was  also  de 
termined.  Senator  Payne  closed  his  plea 
for  the  minority  report  with  the  words :  "I 
repeat  that  upon  this  question  of  congress 
ional  non-intervention  we  are  committed 
by  the  acts  of  congress;  we  are  committed 
by  the  acts  of  the  national  Democratic  con 
vention;  we  cannot  recede  without  personal 
dishonor,  and,  so  help  us  God,  we  never  will 
recede ! " 

Yancey,  the  Machiavelli  of  the  cotton 
states,  smilingly  replied  that  the  north 
would  then  invite  defeat.  They  had  been 
losing  ground  before  the  onrush  of  their  Re 
publican  adversaries  because  they  had  dared 
to  admit  slavery  to  be  a  wrong;  they  must 


Stephen  A.  Douglas          4*9 

recede,  rather,  from  this  ignoble  view  of  a 
great  domestic  institution,  and  must  em 
brace  the  higher  faith,  that  slavery  must  be 
protected  by  congress  in  every  territory,  if 
they  would  join  again  in  songs  of  triumph. 

This  speech  was  received  with  thundering 
applause  by  the  galleries,  crowded  with 
Charleston  citizens.  Senator  Pugh,  of  Ohio, 
was  on  his  feet  in  an  instant.  Indignantly 
he  retorted  that  the  spread  of  the  Republi 
can  party  was  due  to  the  ever  increasing  de 
mands  of  the  slave  states.  His  brethren 
from  the  north  are  now  asked  to  bury  their 
faces  in  the  dust  of  humiliation.  "  Gentle 
men  of  the  south/'  he  cried,  "you  mistake 
us.  We  will  not  do  it!"  No  applause  from 
the  galleries  greeted  this  ringing  challenge. 
Instead,  there  was  the  deathlike  silence  that 
foretokens  the  cyclone. 

The  re-committal  of  the  platform  to  the 
committee  availed  not.  Neither  did  Benja 
min  F.  Butler's  suggestion  that  the  conven 
tion  simply  reaffirm  the  Cincinnati  platform. 

On  Monday,  April  30th,  on  the  seventh 
day  of  the  convention,  the  storm  broke,  a 
storm  that  had  been  gathering  for  years. 
By  a  vote  of  165  to  138  it  was  voted  to  sub 
stitute  the  minority  for  the  majority  report. 

Yancey's  time  had  come.  He  had  planned 
for  it  and  was  ready.  He  arose  amid  the 
turbulent  throng  and  led  from  the  hall  the 
sullen  south.  Alabama,  Mississippi,  Louisi 
ana,  South  Carolina,  Florida,  Texas,  Ar- 


420    Five  American  Politicians 

kansas,  and  a  portion  of  Georgia,  followed 
him.  The  Democratic  party  was  no  longer 
national. 

There  remained  a  majority  of  the  whole 
number  of  delegates.  Fifty-seven  ballots 
they  cast  for  the  Presidential  ilomination, 
but  Douglas  could  not  secure  the  requisite 
two-thirds.  The  convention  determined  to 
adjourn  to  meet  in  Baltimore  on  the  18th 
of  June.  They  asked  the  party  organiza 
tion  in  the  states  whose  delegates  had  left  the 
convention,  to  fill  their  places,  and  hoped  that 
in  the  interval  of  six  weeks,  the  sober  second 
judgment  of  the  southern  leaders  would 
bring  them  to  repentance.  Meanwhile  the 
seceding  delegates  organized  a  convention 
of  their  own.  They  adopted  the  majority 
report  of  the  platform  committee,  spent 
their  surplus  energy  in  four  days  of  speech 
making,  and  adjourned  to  meet  in  Richmond 
on  the  eleventh  of  June. 

All  hope  that  the  interval  might  bring 
calm  reflection  and  sweet  reconciliation  was 
vain.  Bitter  and  sweet  water  cannot  flow 
from  the  same  well.  Slavery  had  been  the 
perennial  source  of  too  much  bitterness  to 
be  now  transformed  into  a  wellspring  of 
wholesome  cooperation  with  the  north. 

Jefferson  Davis,  the  master  of  the  situa 
tion,  began  a  terrific  and  vindictive  onslaught 
upon  " squatter  sovereignty"  from  his  place 
in  the  senate  on  May  7th.  He  declared  it 
the  deadly  Upas,  that  had  poisoned  the 


Stephen  A.  Douglas         421 

whole  land.  Douglas  flashed  back  that  a 
congressional  caucus  had  no  right  to  create 
new  articles  of  faith  for  the  Democratic 
party.  The  great  principle  of  Democracy 
was  that  the  majority  ruled.  "And  now/' 
he  asked,  "shall  the  majority  surrender  to 
the  minority?"  Anyone  who  demanded 
this  was  not  a  Democrat.  Davis  placidly 
replied  that  by  his  fight  on  Lecompton, 
Douglas  put  himself  outside  the  party.  He 
dared  the  Douglas  Democrats  to  act  without 
the  south.  The  Cotton  States  would  not 
submit  to  northern  dictation. 

Thus  they  fought  for  two  weeks,  these 
giants  of  the  opposing  factions.  With  every 
word,  they  drove  farther  asunder  the  two 
sections.  On  the  25th  of  May  the  Davis 
resolution  passed  the  senate  by  a  vote  of 
two  to  one. 

A  week  before  this  vote  was  taken,  May 
16th,  occurred  another  event  that  made  it 
still  more  impossible  for  Jefferson  Davis  and 
Stephen  A.  Douglas  to  weld  their  differences 
and  to  reunite  the  party.  On  that  day  the 
national  Republican  convention  met  in  Chi 
cago.  There  were  no  delegates  from  the 
south.  It  was  a  northern  party;  it  adopted 
a  northern  platform;  it  nominated  a  northern 
man  for  President  and  a  northern  man  for 
Vice-President.  When  the  south  learned 
that  Abraham  Lincoln,  of  Illinois,  the  ear 
nest  defender  of  the  proposition  that  slavery 
is  a  wrong,  had  been  named  for  President, 


422    Five  American  Politicians 

and  that  Hannibal  Hamlin,  of  Maine,  an  able 
and  ardent  advocate  of  slavery  restriction  had 
been  named  for  Vice-President,  upon  a  plat 
form  that  declared  unequivocally  "that  the 
normal  condition  of  all  the  territory  of  the 
United  States  is  that  of  freedom  "  and  that 
denied  "the  authority  of  congress,  of  a  terri 
torial  legislature,  or  of  any  individuals,  to 
give  legal  existence  to  slavery  in  any 
territory  of  the  United  States,"  their  de 
termination  to  force  their  views  upon 
the  Democratic  party  became  unalterably 
fixed. 

And  when  these  southern  slave-masters 
learned  further  that  the  remnants  of  the  old 
Whig  party,  still  powerful  in  the  border 
states,  had  reorganized  under  the  name  of 
"The  Constitutional  Union  Party,"  and  had 
nominated  John  Bell,  of  Tennessee,  for 
President,  and  Edward  Everett,  of  Massa 
chusetts,  for  Vice-President,  both  statesmen 
of  the  old  school,  devoted  to  reconciliation 
and  compromise,  upon  the  simple,  laconic 
platform,  "The  constitution  of  the  country, 
the  union  of  the  states  and  the  enforcement 
of  the  constitution,"  they  fully  and  finally 
realized  that  it  was  absolutely  necessary  for 
them  to  cohere  in  their  isolation,  and  to 
repel  all  advances  for  reuniting  the  party. 
From  their  viewpoint,  there  was  but  one 
course  to  pursue.  If  the  national  Demo 
cratic  party  would  not  bow  to  them,  they 
would  break  the  party  upon  the  rocks  of 


Stephen  A.  Douglas 


secession.  At  all  hazards  they  would  keep 
their  section  a  "  solid  south." 

According  to  adjournment,  the  Davis 
Democrats  met  in  Richmond.  There  was 
not  a  trace  of  conciliatory  disposition.  Four 
days  were  spent  in  aimless  talking,  when 
they  recessed  to  meet  in  Baltimore  on  the 
28th.  They  were  evidently  waiting  to  see 
what  the  Douglas  Democrats  would  do. 
Perhaps  the  action  of  the  erstwhile  "  Know- 
nothing"  party,  in  nominating  Bell  and 
Everett,  made  them  uneasy.  It  was  a 
danger  they  had  not  counted  on. 

The  northern  Democrats  also  met  pursu 
ant  to  adjournment,  in  Baltimore.  There 
was  here  neither  spirit  of  forgiveness  nor  of 
harmony.  Chaos  reigned,  and  wild  confu 
sion.  Some  of  the  states  that  had  left  the 
hall  in  Charleston  had  sent  contesting  dele 
gates,  and  these  were  as  water  poured  upon 
molten  iron.  For  days  the  parliamentary 
tumult  continued.  To  the  bitterness  of  po 
litical  discussion  was  added  personal  rancor. 
The  speakers  exhausted  every  name  in  the 
vocabulary  of  crimination,  and  every  adjec 
tive  in  the  dictionary  of  defamation.  At 
night,  the  leaders  harangued  the  crowds  at 
rival  mass  meetings.  The  populace  caught 
the  inflammation  of  discord  and  added  their 
spectacular  demonstration  to  the  evidences 
of  an  enduring  rupture. 

Douglas,  hearing  of  the  turmoil,  sent  a 
telegram  to  his  friends,  suggesting  that  peace 


424    Five  American  Politicians 

might  be  restored  to  party  and  country,  if 
his  name  were  withdrawn,  and  a  compromise 
candidate  named.  But  his  managers  sup 
pressed  the  telegram.  It  is  probable  that 
the  division  had  grown  so  wide  that  no  can 
didate  could  have  been  found,  agreeable  to 
both  factions. 

On  the  fifth  day,  the  president  of  the  con 
vention,  Caleb  Gushing,  resigned  his  seat 
and  left  the  hall.  He  took  with  him  that 
portion  of  the  south  that  had  not  seceded  at 
Charleston,  namely,  North  Carolina,  Vir 
ginia,  Tennessee ;  the  border  states,  Maryland 
and  Kentucky,  and  the  two  northern  states, 
California  and  Delaware.  These  he  ushered 
into  Maryland  Institute  Hall,  where  Yancey 
and  his  extremists  met,  and  there  was  or 
ganized  finally,  for  the  nomination  of  presi 
dential  candidates,  the  Democracy  of  the 
South.  John  C.  Breckenridge,  of  Kentucky, 
was  named  for  President,  and  Joseph  Lane, 
of  Oregon,  for  Vice-President.  They  ad 
hered  to  the  custom  of  naming  one  candi 
date  from  each  section.  As  Yancey  had  for 
many  years  secretly  plotted  this  movement 
of  secession,  had  been  the  master-spirit  of 
the  intrigue  in  Charleston,  Richmond  and 
Baltimore,  it  was  only  fitting  that  he  pro 
nounce  his  unholy  benediction  upon  the  ter 
rible  work  he  had  accomplished.  With  his 
customary  complacency  and  sinister  smile,  he 
told  the  mob  that  he  was  not  for  the  Union 
per  se,  nor  against  the  Union  per  se.  But  he 


Stephen  A.  Douglas          4^5 

was  for  the  constitution.  He  believed  that 
as  yet  the  Union  was  safe,  because  Democ 
racy  was  safe.  His  treasonable  suggestion 
that  the  election  alone  could  determine  how 
long  the  Union  would  be  safe,  was  received 
with  a  wild  howl  of  approval. 

The  regular  Democratic  convention  nomi 
nated  Douglas  for  President  on  the  first  bal 
lot  by  an  almost  unanimous  vote.  Fitzpat- 
rick,  of  Alabama,  was  named  for  Vice-Presi- 
dent,  but  he  refused  the  honor,  and  H.  V. 
Johnson,  of  Georgia,  was  named  in  his  stead. 
After  the  nominations  had  been  made,  Wil 
liam  A.  Richardson,  of  Illinois,  Douglas's 
manager,  read  a  letter  from  Douglas,  dated 
at  Washington,  June  20th.  In  this  letter 
Douglas  deplores  the  demoralization  of  the 
party.  "  I  firmly  and  conscientiously  believe 
that  there  is  no  safety  for  this  country, 
no  hope  for  the  preservation  of  the  Union, 
except  by  a  faithful  and  rigid  adherence  to 
the  doctrine  of  non-intervention  by  congress 
with  slavery  in  the  territories.  Interven 
tion  means  disunion.  There  is  no  difference 
in  principle  between  northern  and  southern 
intervention.  The  one  intervenes  for  sla 
very,  the  other  against  slavery;  but  each 
appeals  to  the  passions  and  prejudices  of  his 
own  section  against  the  peace  of  the  whole 
country  and  the  rights  of  self-government 
by  the  people  of  the  territories.  Hence  the 
doctrine  of  non-intervention  must  be  main 
tained  at  all  hazards.  But  while  I  can  never 


426    Five  American  Politicians 

sacrifice  the  principle,  even  to  obtain  the 
Presidency,  I  will  cheerfully  and  joyfully 
sacrifice  myself  to  maintain  the  principle. 
If,  therefore,  you  and  my  other  friends  who 
have  stood  by  me  with  such  heroic  firmness 
at  Charleston  and  Baltimore,  shall  be  of  the 
opinion  that  the  principle  can  be  preserved, 
and  the  unity  and  ascendency  of  the  Demo 
cratic  party  maintained,  and  the  country 
saved  from  the  perils  of  northern  abolition 
ism  and  southern  disunion,  by  withdrawing 
my  name  and  uniting  with  some  other  non 
intervention,  Union  loving  Democrat,  I  be 
seech  you  to  pursue  that  course.  *  *  * 
This  letter  is  prompted  by  the  same  motives 
which  induced  my  dispatch  four  years  ago, 
withdrawing  my  name  from  the  Cincinnati 
convention." 

His  followers,  evidently,  did  not  believe 
that  a  recurrence  of  the  Cincinnati  compro 
mise  was  wise  or  possible.  They  were  prob 
ably  right,  for  the  extremists  had  driven 
their  work  to  such  a  latitude,  that  the  man 
did  not  live  upon  whom  both  factions  could 
agree. 

In  his  letter  of  acceptance,  Douglas  once 
more  expressed  his  profound  conviction  that 
peace  and  union  could  only  be  maintained 
if  the  people  of  every  territory  were  let  alone 
to  govern  themselves.  "If  the  power  and 
the  duty  of  federal  interference  is  to  be  con 
ceded,  two  hostile,  sectional  parties  must 
be  the  result,  the  one  inflaming  the  passions 


Stephen  A.  Douglas          427 

and  ambitions  of  the  north,  the  other  of  the 
south,  and  each  struggling  to  use  the  federal 
power  and  authority  for  the  aggrandizement 
of  its  own  section,  at  the  expense  of  the 
equal  rights  of  the  other,  and  in  derogation 
of  those  fundamental  principles  of  self-gov 
ernment  which  were  firmly  established  in 
this  country  by  the  American  Revolution 
as  the  basis  of  our  entire  Republican  system. 
"During  the  memorable  period  of  our  po 
litical  history,  when  the  advocates  of  federal 
intervention  upon  the  subject  of  slavery  in 
the  territories  had  well  nigh  '  precipitated 
the  country  into  a  revolution/  the  northern 
interventionists  demanding  the  Wilmot  Pro 
viso  for  the  prohibition  of  slavery,  and  the 
southern  interventionists,  then  few  in  num 
ber  and  without  a  single  representative  in 
congress,  insisting  upon  congressional  legis 
lation  for  the  protection  of  slavery  in  oppo 
sition  to  the  wishes  of  the  people  in  either 
case,  it  will  be  remembered  that  it  required 
all  the  wisdom,  power  and  influence  of  Clay 
and  a  Webster  and  a  Cass,  supported  by  the 
conservative  and  patriotic  men  of  the  Whig 
and  Democratic  parties  of  that  day,  to  de 
vise  and  carry  out  a  line  of  policy  which 
would  restore  peace  to  the  country  and  sta 
bility  to  the  Union.  The  essential  living 
principle  of  that  policy,  as  applied  to  the 
legislation  of  1850,  was,  and  now  is,  non 
intervention  by  congress  with  slavery  in  the 
territories.  The  fair  application  of  this  just 


428    Five  American  Politicians 

and  equitable  principle  restored  harmony 
and  fraternity  to  a  distracted  country.  If 
we  now  depart  from  that  wise  and  just  policy 
which  produced  these  happy  results,  and 
permit  the  country  to  be  again  distracted; 
if  precipitated  into  revolution  by  a  sectional 
contest  between  pro-slavery  and  anti-slavery 
interventionists,  where  shall  we  look  for  an 
other  Clay,  another  Webster,  or  another  Cass 
to  pilot  the  ship  of  state  over  the  breakers 
into  a  haven  of  peace  and  safety? 

"The  Federal  Union  must  be  preserved. 
The  constitution  must  be  maintained  invio 
late  in  all  its  parts.  Every  right  guaranteed 
by  the  constitution  must  be  protected  by 
law,  in  all  cases  where  legislation  is  necessary 
to  its  engagement.  The  judicial  authority 
as  provided  in  the  constitution  must  be  sus 
tained,  and  its  decisions  implicitly  obeyed 
and  faithfully  executed.  The  laws  must  be 
administered  and  the  constituted  authori 
ties  upheld,  and  all  unlawful  resistance  to 
these  things  must  be  put  down  with  firmness, 
impartiality  and  fidelity  if  we  expect  to 
enjoy  and  transmit  unimpaired  to  our  pos 
terity,  that  blessed  inheritance  which  we 
have  received  in  trust  from  the  patriots 
and  sages  of  the  Revolution." 

This  letter  is  transcribed  in  full  because 
it  portrays  more  clearly  than  any  other 
words  can,  the  attitude  of  Douglas,  in  this 
time  of  the  nation's  most  fateful  Presidential 
election.  The  words  are  not  those  of  a  pan- 


Stephen  A.  Douglas          429 

dering  politician,  nor  those  of  a  sage  who 
abhors  slavery  because  it  is  wrong,  but  they 
are  the  utterances  of  a  conservative  states 
man  who  loves  his  country,  and  its  estab 
lished  customs,  and  who  draws  his  inspira 
tion  from  the  days  of  Clay  and  of  Cass,  the 
days  of  conciliating  Whigs  and  Democrats. 

Is  it  possible  that  Douglas  did  not  perceive 
that  these  days  were  long  past,  never  to 
recur;  that  in  place  of  Democrats  who 
were  willing  to  compromise  on  36°  30',  he 
was  confronted  by  slavery  Democrats  who 
knew  neither  latitude  nor  longitude ;  that  in 
place  of  gentle,  conciliating  Whigs,  he  was 
face  to  face  with  Republicans  who  ardently 
believed  that  slavery  was  a  sin?  Is  it  possi 
ble  that  a  man  of  such  political  sagacity  and 
instinct  could  not  discern  that  the  isuue  was 
not  his  perversion  of  the  Compromise  of 
1850,  nor  yet  his  mis  judgment  of  the  Dred 
Scott  decision,  but  was  the  question  of  sla 
very?  Not  slavery  as  a  political  isuue,  nor 
yet  as  an  economic  expedient,  or  a  constitu 
tional  compromise,  but  slavery  as  a  moral 
issue.  But  this  was  the  centre  of  contro 
versy. 

The  contest,  then,  was  fourfold. 

Only  one  of  the  parties  represented  the  old 
issues,  in  old-fashioned  form.  Bell  and  Ev 
erett  of  the  Constitutional  Union  Party, 
were  old-time  Whigs,  but  little  tinged  with 
know-nothingism.  They  lived  in  the  past, 
they  moved  in  the  atmosphere  of  Webster 


43°    Five  American  Politicians 

and  of  Clay.  They  were  gentlemen  of  the 
old  school,  grave,  dignified,  genteel,  learned, 
free  from  the  rough  boisterousness  that  had 
invaded  politics  during  the  preceding  decade. 
Their  statesmanship  was  founded  on  com 
promise,  and  their  jurisprudence  upon  arbi 
tration.  The  rampant  demonstrations  of  the 
younger  politicians  they  considered  as  dan 
gerous.  In  sharp  contrast  to  these  conser 
vatives  stood  the  remaining  three  parties. 

The  Douglas  Democrats  indeed  also  laid 
claim  to  the  conservatism  of  their  fathers. 
But  the  let-alone  policy  of  their  great  leader 
differed  radically  from  the  conciliatory  poli 
cy  of  his-  predecessors.  What  would  Van 
Buren  or  Jackson  have  said  of  Kansas-Ne 
braska  and  Dred  Scott?  What  would  Thomas 
Jefferson  have  said  of  Douglas's  exposition  of 
the  Declaration  of  Independence?  It  was  a 
far  cry  from  Popular  Sovereignty  to  Clay's 
compromises. 

And  the  slave-holding  Democracy  was 
radicalism  run  mad.  They  interpreted  Dred 
Scott  to  be  a  universalizing  of  slavery  in  all 
territories,  and  this  interpretation  they 
made  their  party  creed.  Even  the  non-in 
tervention  platform  adopted  in  Cincinnati 
four  years  before  was  now  too  obsolete  for 
them.  They  thrust  their  advanced  views 
forward  with  an  impudence  and  an  obstinacy 
that  was  the  surest  guarantee  of  their  defeat. 

Lastly  the  new  Republican  party  met 
squarely  the  advanced  issue  of  the  southern 


Stephen  A.  Douglas 43 * 

Democrats.  "Resolved,"  ran  their  plat 
form,  "that  the  new  dogma  that  the  consti 
tution  of  its  own  force,  carries  slavery  into 
any  or  all  of  the  territories  of  the  United 
States  is  a  dangerous  political  heresy,  at 
variance  with  explicit  provisison  of  that 
instrument  itself,  with  contemporaneous  ex 
position,  and  with  legislative  and  judicial 
precedent;  is  revolutionary  in  its  tendencies 
and  subversive  of  the  peace  and  harmony 
of  the  country ;  that  the  normal  condition  of 
all  the  territory  of  the  United  States  is  that 
of  freedom;  that,  as  our  Republican  fathers, 
when  they  had  abolished  slavery  in  all  our 
national  territory,  and  ordained  that  no 
person  should  be  deprived  of  life,  liberty  and 
property  without  due  process  of  law,  it  be 
came  our  duty  by  legislation,  whenever  such 
legislation  is  necessary,  to  maintain  this  pro 
vision  of  the  constitution  against  all  at 
tempts  to  violate  it;  and  we  deny  the  author 
ity  of  congress,  of  a  territorial  legislature,  or 
of  any  individual,  to  give  legal  existence  to 
slavery  in  any  territory  of  the  United 
States." 

Thus  the  southern  Democrats  and  the  Re 
publicans  were  at  variance  in  their  reading 
of  our  constitutional  history ;  were  at  antip 
odes  in  their  constitutional  law;  and  their 
ideas  of  national  sovereignty  were  direct 
antitheses.  Both  were  comparatively  new 
in  national  politics.  But  back  of  all  this 
was  sentiment,  an  attachment  for  slavery, 


432    Five  American  Politicians 

and  an  abhorrence  of  slavery;  the  virtue  of 
negro  slavery  extolled  by  one,  the  sinful- 
ness  of  slavery  preached  by  the  other. 

In  spite  of  the  novelty  of  these  various 
views,  all  of  the  parties  equally  claimed  di 
rect  descent  from  "the  fathers.''  Ortho 
doxy  is  as  cruel  a  tyrant  in  politics  as  in  the 
ology.  No  matter  how  madly  they  flaunted 
the  red  flag  of  radicalism,  all  of  the  con 
testants  professed  conservatism.  And  the 
most  conservative  of  all  the  candidates  was 
the  one  who  was  denounced  as  the  most 
dangerous  radical.  It  was  providential  for 
our  Republic  that  Abraham  Lincoln  was 
more  conservative  than  his  party. 

And  so  also  did  all  the  candidates  pledge 
their  personal  allegiance  to  the  Union. 
They  all  charged  each  other  with  disunion 
sentiments ;  they  all  indignantly  spurned  the 
charges  and  professed  in  speech  and  letter 
their  attachment  for  the  Union.  Bell 
pledged  that,  if  elected,  all  of  his  powers 
would  be  devoted  to  "the  maintenance  of 
the  constitution,  and  the  Union,  against  all 
opposing  influences  and  tendencies."  Lin 
coln  said  that  a  Republican  victory  should 
establish  "the  inviolability  of  the  constitu 
tion  and  the  perpetual  union,  harmony  and 
prosperity  of  all."  Douglas  never  wavered 
in  the  conviction  that  "the  federal  Union 
must  be  preserved."  And  even  Brecken- 
ridge  could  write :  "  The  constitution,  and  the 
equality  of  the  states,  these  are  symbols  of 


Stephen  A.  Douglas 433 

everlasting  union.  Let  them  be  the  rally 
ing  cries  of  the  people."  Therefore  each  of 
the  four  parties  claimed  to  be  national  par 
ties,  not  sectional  factions. 

But  they  all  admitted  that  there  was  vir 
tually  one  issue,  slavery,  and  that  issue  from 
its  history,  and  its  nature  could  be  only  sec 
tional.  The  drift  of  the  tide  was  sectional. 
Mere  words  could  not  stem  it,  hollow  pro 
fessions  could  not  divert  it,  subterfuge  could 
only  delay  it.  Long  before  election  day  the 
real  nature  of  the  issue  was  revealed.  The 
southern  democrats  spoke  openly  of  seces 
sion  if  the  Republicans  should  win.  They 
likewise  rebelled  against  the  northern  Demo 
crats.  They  would  rule,  or  they  would  ruin. 
Destiny  decreed  that  they  should  do  neither. 

Still  more  clearly  did  events,  subsequent 
to  the  election,  tear  away  this  mask  of  pro 
fessed  unionism  from  the  faces  of  the  candi 
dates.  Bell  joined  the  slave-owners  in  their 
war  upon  the  Union,  and  Breckenridge  be 
came  a  leading  actor  on  the  stage  of  se 
cession.  It  was  a  contest  of  sections;  and 
when  the  issues  of  war  took  the  place  of  the 
issues  of  the  ballots,  each  candidate  adhered 
to  his  section. 

Douglas  threw  himself  into  the  campaign 
with  all  his  zeal  and  wonderful  energy. 
The  odds  were  overwhelmingly  against  him. 
The  Buchanan  Democrats  fought  him  with 
more  rancor  than  the  Republicans,  and 
with  more  effect,  because  their  antagonism 

28 


434    Five  American  Politicians 

threw  the  border  states  into  the  Bell  col 
umns,  and  prevented  his  success  in  several 
doubtful  states  of  the  north.  There  were  at 
tempts  by  the  politicians  at  fusion  between 
the  warring  Democratic  factions.  In  New 
Jersey,  New  York  and  Rhode  Island  they 
were  successful,  but  in  the  other  states  all  at 
tempts  to  bring  the  Republican  opposition 
together  were  abortive. 

It  was  ere  long  apparent  that  Douglas 
was    fighting    a    hopeless    battle.     But   he 
fought  it  bravely,  fiercely,  and  patriotically. 
There  was  no  cringing  in  his  attitude.     He 
defied  the  southern  Democracy,  and    laid 
bare  their  true  intent  to  disrupt  the  Union, 
as  they  had  disrupted  the  party.     In  Balti 
more  he  said :     "  It  is  my  opinion  that  there 
is  a  mature  plan  throughout  the  Southern 
states  to  break  up  the  union.     I  believe  the 
election  of  a  Republican  is  to  be  the  signal 
for  that  attempt,  and  that  the  leaders  of  the 
scheme  desire  the  election  of  Lincoln  so  as  to 
have  an  excuse  for  disunion.     I  do  not  be 
lieve  that  every  Breckenridge  man  is  a  dis- 
unionist,  but  I  do  believe  that  every  dis- 
unionist  in  America  is  a  Breckenridge  man.7' 
He  wore  no  mask,  and  the  double-meaning 
sentences  of  the  vote-baiters  found  no  utter 
ances  from  his  lips.     When  a  written  ques 
tion  was  handed  him  in  Norfolk,  Virginia, 
whether,  if  elected,  he  would  maintain  the 
Union  by  force  of  arms,  he  boldly  replied, 
without  a  moment's  hesitation:     "I  answer 


Stephen  A.  Douglas          435 

emphatically  that  it  is  the  duty  of  the  Pres 
ident  of  the  United  States  and  all  others  in 
authority  under  him,  to  enforce  the  laws  of 
the  United  States  passed  by  congress,  and 
as  the  courts  expound  them,  and  I,  as  in 
duty  bound  by  my  oath  of  fidelity  to  the  con 
stitution,  would  do  all  in  my  power  to  aid 
the  government  of  the  United  States  in  main 
taining  the  supremacy  of  the  law  against  all 
resistance  to  them,  come  from  what  quarter 
it  might.  In  other  words,  I  think  the  Pres 
ident,  whoever  he  may  be,  should  treat  all 
attempts  to  break  up  the  Union  by  resist 
ance  to  the  laws  as  Old  Hickory  treated  the 
milliners  in  1832." 

As,  in  the  days  of  his  youth,  he  had  drawn 
his  political  inspiration  from  Andrew  Jack 
son,  so  now,  in  the  last  and  severest  struggle 
of  his  eventful  life,  he  remained  true  to  the 
principles  of  the  great  defender  of  national 
ism  and  popular  Democracy.  In  his  polit 
ical  philosophy  there  was  no  room  for  the  fal 
lacy  that  the  nation  was  subordinate  to  its 
constituent  parts.  He  saw  no  inconsistency 
in  the  proposition  that  all  of  the  states  are 
co-equal,  but  that  the  federal  Union  is  su 
preme.  His  vision  was  national,  his  concep 
tion  of  the  nation  included  sovereignty,  su 
premacy,  perpetuity,  and  while  he  was  will 
ing  to  allow  each  state  and  territory  to  de 
cide  for  itself  the  all-engrossing  question  of 
slavery,  he  was  unreservedly  unwilling  to 
allow  the  caprice  of  such  state  or  territory 


436    Five  American  Politicians 

to  rend  the  Union  and  destroy  the  nation. 
This  Union,  sacred  and  supreme,  he  would 
maintain  with  the  force  of  arms,  and  if 
necessary  tie  every  rebellious  state  to  the  fed 
eral  government  with  a  cordon  of  federal 
soldiers. 

The  American  people,  also,  believed  in 
these  fundamental  principles.  But  how 
many  of  them  foreknew  that  their  full  ex 
pression  would  so  soon  put  these  axioms  of 
nationalism  to  the  final  test?  For  the  elec 
tion  of  Abraham  Lincoln  became  the  signal 
for  the  disruption  of  the  government,  and 
the  trial  of  the  cause,  whether  these  United 
States  were  a  nation  or  a  confederacy. 

Lincoln  received  180  of  the  303  electoral 
votes.  They  included  all  of  the  northern 
electors,  except  three  of  New  Jersey.  The 
south  and  the  border  states  divided  their 
votes  among  the  other  three  candidates. 
Kentucky,  Tennessee  and  Virginia  gave 
Bell  their  thirty-nine  electors.  The  solid 
south  gave  its  seventy-two  votes  for  Breck- 
enridge.  Of  the  popular  vote  of  the  south 
ern  states,  Bell  received  515,973;  Brecken- 
ridge  571,871,  and  Douglas  only  163,525. 
But  the  total  popular  vote  cast  for  Douglas 
was  1,365,979.  Only  the  electoral  votes  of 
Missouri,  together  with  three  votes  from 
New  Jersey,  a  total  of  12,  were  cast  for  Doug 
las  in  the  electoral  college.  But  his  popular 
vote  exceeded  that  of  every  other  candidate 
excepting  only  the  victor.  Whatever  doubt 


Stephen  A.  Douglas         437 

existed,  of  the  sectional  character  of  the  cam 
paign,  now  utterly  vanished.  These  figures 
reveal  the  geography  of  the  land,  as  well  as 
its  politics.  Politics  had  become  sectional. 
For  the  first  time  in  many  years  the  north  had 
the  government.  And  now  upon  the  north  de 
volved  the  sacred  duty  of  keeping  it  inviolate. 

Douglas  had  been  in  poor  health  for  some 
years.  The  tremendous  physical  exertion 
required  by  his  contest  with  Jefferson  Davis, 
and  the  southern  Democrats,  in  congress 
and  in  the  conventions  of  1860,  and  the  tre 
mendous  strain  of  the  great  campaign,  left  him 
quite  exhausted.  And  his  spirit  was  utterly 
broken  by  the  crushing  defeat.  He  was 
proud,  and  he  was  ambitious.  Failure  was 
humiliating  to  his  pride  and  fatal  to  his  am 
bition.  And,  above  all,  the  burden  of  the 
nation  lay  heavily  upon  his  heart.  Tradi 
tion  records  that  on  the  seventh  day  of  No 
vember,  when  the  ballots  had  been  counted, 
Douglas  became  a  changed  man.  The  cher 
ished  hope  of  his  life  had  eluded  him,  his 
body  was  racked  with  pain,  his  country  was 
in  imminent  peril.  The  party  he  had  led 
with  such  vigor  and  ambition  was  shattered. 
His  greatest  rival  was  now  his  victor. 

And  to  the  victor,  the  vanquished  gave 
his  loyal  and  unflinching  support.  During 
those  disheartening  and  disgraceful  days 
that  intervened  between  election  day  and 
the  inauguration,  Douglas  was  endeavoring 
to  consummate  a  peaceful  settlement  of  the 


43 8  Five  American  Politicians 

differences  that  separated  the  nationalists 
from  the  sectionalists.  But  the  fatuity  of 
man  overruled  the  decrees  of  wisdom.  He 
soon  realized  that  the  military  preparations 
of  the  south  meant  war;  that  their  bayonets 
and  sabers  were  sharpened  for  actual  con 
flict,  and  their  guns  and  cannons  were 
mounted  for  a  deadly  mission.  He  was 
quick  to  advise  that  blow  be  given  for  blow. 

Even  after  the  inauguration  of  Lincoln 
there  lingered  a  hope  that  peace  might  pre 
vail.  It  was  a  vain  hope.  Compromise  had 
failed,  popular  sovereignty  had  failed,  the 
issue  was  squarely  between  nationalism  and 
sectionalism,  and  Douglas  became  a  fervid 
supporter  of  nationalism. 

Lincoln  was  inaugurated  on  the  fourth  day 
of  March.  Douglas  stood  near  him  and  held 
his  beaver  hat,  as  the  new  President  read  his 
conservative  first  inaugural  message.  He 
was  seen  to  nod  his  head  frequently  in  assent 
to  the  calm  words  of  caution,  and  to  those 
standing  near  him  he  said:  "That's  fair, 
that's  good,"  when  Lincoln  made  some  spec 
ial  point.  In  the  evening,  Douglas  escorted 
Mrs.  Lincoln  to  the  inaugural  ball,  thus  re 
buking  the  snobs  of  Washington  society 
who  had  openly  declared  they  would  not  at 
tend  "  the  ball  of  the  rail  splitter."  His  sup 
port  of  the  President  was  sincere  and  whole 
hearted.  He  had  great  faith  in  Lincoln, 
and  Lincoln  showed  no  less  faith  in  Douglas. 
They  had  been  ardent  rivals  all  their  lives. 


Stephen  A.  Douglas          439 

Now  they  linked  their  wonderful  talents  in 
the  cause  of  patriotism,  for  the  preservation 
of  the  federal  Union. 

Soon  after  Lincoln's  arrival  in  Washing 
ton,  Douglas  requested  an  interview,  and  for 
several  hours  these  two  great  men  counselled 
together  on  the  safety  of  their  land.  What 
passed  between  them  remains  unrecorded, 
but  the  imagination  loves  to  linger  over  the 
scene  of  the  final  conciliation  of  these  great 
rivals. 

On  the  first  day  of  May,  Douglas  returned 
to  Chicago.  It  was  his  last  home-coming, 
and  it  was  his  proudest.  His  neighbors 
united  in  a  welcome  that  has  become  historic. 
Republicans  and  Democrats  and  Abolition 
ists  assembled  at  the  depot  in  immense 
throngs  to  meet  him.  They  escorted  him 
through  streets,  crowded  with  the  populace, 
to  the  great  wigwam  where  Lincoln  had 
been  nominated/  Here  he  addressed  a  vast 
assemblage.  It  was  his  last  public  utterance. 
His  words  show  forth  the  motives  that 
prompted  him  in  his  long  career  as  states 
man,  and  they  reveal  that  underneath  the 
struggle  for  state  rights,  there  had  ever  been 
in  his  mind  the  consciousness  of  national 
sovereignty. 

"If  war  must  come,"  he  said,  "if  the  bay 
onet  must  be  used  to  maintain  the  constitu 
tion,  I  can  say  before  God  my  conscience  is 
clean.  I  have  struggled  long  for  a  peaceful 
solution  of  the  difficulty.  I  have  not  only 


440  Five  American  Politicians 

tendered  these  states  what  was  theirs  of 
right,  but  I  have  gone  to  the  very  extremes 
of  magnanimity.  The  return  we  receive  is 
war,  armies  marched  upon  our  capital,  ob 
struction  and  dangers  to  our  navigation,  let 
ters  of  marque  to  invite  pirates  to  prey  upon 
our  commerce,  a  concerted  movement  to  blot 
out  the  United  States  of  America  from  the 
map  of  the  globe." 

He  sought  for  the  cause  of  this  warlike 
procedure.  "The  slavery  question  is  a 
mere  excuse.  The  election  of  Lincoln  is  a 
mere  pretext.  The  present  secession  move 
ment  is  the  result  of  an  enormous  conspiracy 
formed  more  than  a  year  since,  by  leaders  of 
the  southern  Confederacy.  They  use  the 
slavery  question  as  a  means  to  aid  the  ac 
complishment  of  their  ends.  *  *  * 
When  the  history  of  the  two  years  from  the 
Lecompton  charter  down  to  the  presidential 
election  shall  be  written,  it  will  be  shown  that 
the  scheme  was  deliberately  made  to  break 
up  this  Union.  They  desired  a  northern 
Republican  to  be  elected  by  a  purely  north 
ern  vote,  and  thus  assign  this  fact  as  a  rea 
son  why  the  sections  may  not  longer  live 
together.  The  conspiracy  is  now  known. 
Armies  have  been  raised,  war  is  levied  to  ac 
complish  it.  There  are  only  two  sides  to 
the  question.  Every  man  must  be  for  the 
United  States  or  against  it.  There  can  be 
no  neutrals  in  this  war;  only  patriots,  or 
traitors.  *  *  *  We  cannot  close  our 


Stephen  A.  Douglas         441 

eyes  to  the  sad  and  solemn  fact  that  war 
does  exist.  The  government  must  be  main 
tained,  its  enemies  overthrown,  and  the 
more  stupendous  our  preparations,  the  less 
the  bloodshed,  and  the  shorter  the  struggle. 
But  we  must  remember  certain  restraints 
on  our  action,  even  in  time  of  war.  We  are 
a  Christian  people,  and  the  war  must  be 
prosecuted  in  a  manner  recognized  by 
Christian  nations.  We  must  not  invade 
constitutional  rights.  The  innocent  must 
not  suffer,  nor  women  and  children  be  the 
victims.  Savages  must  not  be  let  loose. 
But  while  I  sanction  no  war  on  the  rights  of 
others,  I  will  implore  my  countrymen  not 
to  lay  down  their  arms  until  our  own  rights 
are  recognized.  The  constitution  and  its 
guarantees  are  our  birthright,  and  I  am 
ready  to  enforce  that  inalienable  right  to 
the  last  extent. 

"We  cannot  recognize  secession.  Recog 
nize  it  once,  then  have  you  not  only  dis 
solved  government,  but  have  you  destroyed 
social  order  and  upturned  the  foundations 
of  society.  You  have  inaugurated  anarchy 
in  its  worst  form,  and  will  shortly  experi 
ence  all  the  horrors  of  the  French  revolu 
tion.  Then  we  have  a  solemn  duty  to 
maintain  the  government.  The  greater 
our  unanimity,  the  speedier  the  day  of  peace. 
We  have  prejudices  to  overcome  from  the 
few  short  months  of  a  fierce  party  contest. 
Yet  these  must  be  allayed.  Let  us  lay 


442  Five  American  Politicians 

aside  all  criminations  and  recriminations  as 
to  the  origin  of  these  difficulties.  When  we 
shall  have  again  a  country  with  a  United 
States  flag  floating  over  it,  and  respected  on 
every  inch  of  American  soil,  it  will  then  be 
time  enough  to  ask  who  and  what  brought 
all  this  upon  us. 

"It  is  a  sad  task  to  discuss  questions  so 
fearful  as  civil  war,  but  sad  as  it  is,  bloody 
and  disastrous  as  I  expect  it  will  be,  I  ex 
press  it  as  my  conviction  before  God,  that  it 
is  the  duty  of  every  American  citizen  to  rally 
around  the  flag  of  his  country. " 

Let  these  patriotic  words  be  remembered 
as  the  fitting  peroration  to  the  thousands  of 
speeches  Douglas  had  spoken,  during  the 
twenty-five  years  of  his  political  activity. 
They  contain  no  sophistry,  they  are  devoid  of 
demagogism,  they  are  not  half-truths  magni 
fied  into  deceptive  greatness.  All  those  un 
conscious  tricks  of  the  politician  have  been 
forgotten  in  the  perils  of  the  hour.  They  are 
the  frank  utterances  of  a  firm  believer  in 
nationalism.  And  how  tragic  that  they 
should  be  uttered  from  the  very  platform 
where  his  great  rival  received  the  nomination 
for  the  presidency,  the  nomination  that  cost 
Douglas  the  one  great  ambition  of  his  life. 

Within  a  few  days  of  his  homecoming, 
Douglas  was  confined  to  his  bed  by  an  acute 
malady.  From  this  attack  he  did  not  re 
cover.  He  died  on  the  fourth  day  of  June, 
1861.  He  was  only  48  years  old. 


Stephen  A.  Douglas          443 

It  is  useless  to  speculate  what  greater  hon 
ors  he  might  have  won,  had  he  survived  the 
civil  war.  To  the  careful  student  of  that 
period  of  our  history  which  his  activities 
spanned,  it  must  be  evident  that  Douglas 
had  fulfilled  his  mission  to  his  country  and 
to  his  time.  He  had  in  his  youth  espoused 
the  principles  of  Andrew  Jackson,  in  his 
early  manhood  he  adopted  the  compromise 
of  Clay,  in  his  maturity  he  developed  the 
theory  of  popular  sovereignty,  and  he  died 
uttering  the  nationalistic  precepts  of  Abra 
ham  Lincoln.  What-  effect  his  impetuous 
leadership  might  have  had  upon  the  north 
ern  Democrats  we  cannot  surmise.  It  is 
enough  to  know  that  Douglas  carried  to  its 
verge  the  doctrine  of  state  rights ;  that  when 
he  saw  the  danger  this  ultimate  form  of  his 
theories  would  thrust  upon  his  country,  he 
quickly  recoiled,  and  fully,  freely,  without 
stint  or  reservation  he  counseled  nationalism 
even  through  the  bloody  ordeal  of  battle. 

Nor  is  it  profitable  to  speculate  whether 
that  terrible  ordeal  was  necessary.  In  that 
deep,  eternal  undercurrent  of  human  prog 
ress,  upon  whose  bosom  mankind  is  swept 
onward  to  the  realms  of  civilization  and  cul 
ture,  there  are  momentary  eddies,  and  there 
are  maelstroms.  Man  may  toy  with  its  ma 
jestic  tide,  but  he  cannot  check  it.  Human 
slavery  in  this  free  republic  was  an  obstacle 
to  the  maximum  development  of  the  lofty 
ideals  of  a  self-governing  people.  It  had  to 


444  Five  American  Politicians 

be  removed.  Whether  the  removal  was  to 
be  accomplished  by  the  orderly  progress  of 
civilization,  or  through  the  violence  of  battle, 
depended  upon  the  citizens  of  the  republic; 
not  upon  the  plan  of  human  progress.  That 
portion  of  our  citizenship  who  were  particu 
larly  responsible  for  its  existence,  willed  that 
violence  should  accompany  the  purging  of 
the  land;  that  the  wrath  of  man,  not  his 
love,  his  calm  judgment,  but  his  wrath, 
should  contribute  to  the  glory  of  the  world's 
civilization. 

To  the  peaceful  solution  of  the  question, 
Douglas  had  devoted  all  the  years  of  his  ex 
traordinary  activity,  all  the  wonderful  en 
dowments  of  his  mind.  However  much  he 
may  have  been  prompted  by  an  ambition  to 
become  President,  we  now  know  that  he 
above  all  desired  the  peaceful  solution 
of  the  question  of  slavery.  He  ardently 
believed  that  popular  sovereignty  would 
solve  the  problem;  that  the  absolute 
autonomy  of  every  commonwealth  in  de 
termining  for  itself  the  nature  of  its  local 
institutions  would  remove  the  question 
from  political  discussion.  But  his  solu 
tion  was  not  the  solvent  of  the  evil,  be 
cause  he  misjudged  slavery.  It  was  not 
a  local  institution.  It  was  a  wrong,  a 
great  wrong  to  humanity.  And  to  right  a 
wrong  you  must  tear  it  out.  When  Doug 
las  perceived  the  true  nature  of  slavery,  and 
learned  the  extreme  efforts  its  defenders 


Stephen  A.  Douglas         445 

would  make,  he  threw  aside  the  fallacies  of 
his  statesmanship  and  fervently  urged  a  war 
for  the  maintenance  of  the  Union.  The  De 
fender  of  State  Rights  became  the  De 
fender  of  Nationalism. 

Of  his  talents,  history  must  write  him  the 
preeminent  debater,  the  Fox  of  the  Ameri 
can  Senate.  In  the  golden  days  of  that  de 
liberative  body,  he  stood  among  the  favored 
great.  He  was  not  tremendous,  like  Web 
ster,  nor  emotionalflike  Clay,  nor  learned, 
like  Benton,  nor  ^cultured,  like  Berrien,  nor 
logical,  like  Cass,  nor  rhetorical,  like  Sum- 
ner,  nor  scholarly,  like  Everett,  nor  subtle, 
like  Seward,  nor  passionate,  like  Toombs. 
But,  more  than  any  of  these,  he  possessed  the 
readiness  of  intellect,  the  talent  of  forensic 
strategy,  the  copious  and  forcible  delivery, 
the  adroitness  in  evasion,  the  boldness  in  ag 
gression,  and  the  unfailing  clearness  in  ex 
pression  that  unite  to  make  the  most  ef 
fective  debater. 

Not  less  preeminent  were  his  talents  as  a 
politician.  When  we  recall  the  perilous 
route  over  which  he  journeyed,  the  treach 
ery  of  party  traitors  to  which  he  was  sub 
jected,  the  crushing  defeats  which  ever 
awaited  his  presidential  aspirations,  the 
final  disaster  of  party  shipwreck,  every 
noted  adversary,  every  conspicuous  rival, 
sunken  in  defeat  and  disgrace,  when  we  re 
call  these  circumstances  and  see  Douglas 
alone  emerge  from  the  tangled  ruins,  carry- 


446  Five  American  Politicians 

ing  with  him  one-half  of  the  voters  of  his 
party,  then  we  are  able  to  measure  his  ca 
pacity  for  leadership  and  his  genius  for  po 
litical  strategy. 

Of  his  statesmanship  history  must  write 
that  it  was  at  least  consistent.  He  prided 
himself  on  this  consistency.  From  the  day 
of  his  first  entrance  into  Washington  to  the 
day  of  his  last  utterance  in  the  senate  cham 
ber,  he  was  loyal  to  the  principle  of  non-in 
tervention.  Other  statesmen  changed  their 
views,  he  remained  fixed.  The  war  of  the 
southern  states  he  regarded  as  a  fatal  in 
fringement  upon  the  constitutional  right  of 
non-intervention,  and  he  counselled  an  im 
mediate  and  relentless  war  on  the  part  of  the 
north,  that  by  compulsion,  if  not  by  persua 
sion,  the  constitution  might  be  saved.  When 
he  became  conscious  that  it  was  necessary 
to  choose  between  nationalism  or  sectional 
ism,  he  never  faltered.  There  can  be  no 
doubt  that  his  consistency  was  prompted  by 
absolute  sincerity.  The  great  error  of  his 
statesmanship  was  his  mis  judgment  of  the 
nature  of  slavery  and  the  temper  of  its  ad 
vocates. 

We  of  this  generation  can  afford  to  con 
done  his  faults,  the  sophistries  and  petty 
demagogeries,  that  clung  to  him  and  im 
peded  his  talents  like  barnacles  impede  the 
progress  of  a  ship,  and  let  the  dying  message 
to  his  sons  be  the  living  message  of  Stephen 
A.  Douglas  to  his  nation.  In  his  last  mo- 


Stephen  A.  Douglas          447 

ment  of  consciousness  upon  this  earth,  his 
wife  whispered  to  the  dying  statesman  if  he 
had  any  message  to  send  his  two  sons.  His 
eyes  flashed  with  their  wonted  fire,  and,  rais 
ing  his  voice  for  the  last  time,  he  said:  "Tell 
them  to  obey  the  laws  and  support  the  con 
stitution  of  the  United  States.'7 


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